Changes
by ChocolateChipCheesecake
Summary: He'd always known he would leave the city someday, but he never thought it would be because his psychiatrist had been shot. Eventual Spamano with multiple side pairings
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the characters involved.

Rated T for much potty language and eventual romance between boys.

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><p>"Pat! Hey, Jackson!" a lithe teenager stared at his guardian from the entrance to her office. The woman turned to glare at him questioningly. "I'm done with my project and I'm going to chat with Brule, don't hold dinner for me. Actually, better yet, pretend there's no one to <em>hold <em>dinner for."

"Show some appreciation, boy," 'Pat' snapped, turning back to her computer. "And make sure you tell your brother this time, I don't need him bawling all over the place again."

The boy scoffed and ducked back into the apartment's living room. His brother looked up at him worriedly. "You're going to see Mr. Brule?"

The older boy shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah. I'll be back soon, though, so don't worry over me or something…"

The younger boy beamed and threw his arms around the elder's shoulders in a hug. "Ve~ thank you for telling me Lovi!"

"Ugh, get off me you idiot," Lovino complained. "Don't eat anything that looks like it has drugs in it, okay? I'm leaving now."

He slid out the door, pulling his sweater's hood up as he started down the hallway to the building's ancient staircase. He spared a venomous glance for the broken elevator as he passed it. Damn thing hadn't worked since the day it'd been put in. Four flights of stairs later, he was giving the landlady a reassuring (albeit awkward) smile on his way out the door. He took a deep breath of the evening air, choked on it as he found it full of car exhaust. A few passerby glanced worriedly at the coughing teenager, but he kept his gaze down and trudged on. The walk was short, for the city; Brule only worked a few blocks away from the apartments. The secretary smiled sweetly when he closed the door behind him.

"Here to see James?" she crooned. He nodded hesitantly, and she leaned over to intercom Brule's office. "Brule, this is the lobby; Mr. Jackson is in to see you. I repeat, Mr. Jackson is in to see you."

There was a long stretch of silence. The secretary frowned thoughtfully as Lovino fidgeted. "… How odd. I'm certain he came in today… Go on anyway, sweetie. I'm sure he's just fallen asleep or something of the sort."

"Yes'm," Lovino said, a sort of nausea settling in his stomach as he stepped past her desk to walk down the blindingly white hallways. The trek was familiar. He knew how many doors he would pass, and who worked behind them. He knew how long the secretary had been working there, and how she got the job (because she was the boss' ex-girlfriend, but shh- you hadn't heard that from him). He'd been going there for five years, after all. He could navigate those halls with a blindfold on- he'd done it once. Lovino didn't feel like messing around that day, though. All he felt was sick to his stomach. Everything had gone as perfectly as it did all the days before it- trade insults with his guardian, walk to the building, pretend he didn't realize the secretary was checking him out…

Except Brule hadn't answered the intercom, and if James Brule didn't do _one thing _it was ignore his patients.

Finally Lovino reached the office, and lifted a trembling fist to knock. Silence followed, and he knocked again. When there was still only silence, he cleared his throat. "Oi, Brule! Answer the door already, dammit!"

The silence leaked out from under the door and slithered around him, and the teenager brushed his hair out of his face nervously as he reached for the doorknob. He twisted it and shoved the door in. A strangled cry left his throat as he stared at the scene in front of him.

There was James Brule, face down on his desk as blood leaked onto his papers and dripped onto the floor. The window behind him was shattered- had his attackers come through there, had they shot through the glass? Lovino's legs shook as he felt along the wall for the phone without taking his eyes away from the dead man in front of him.

_Dial nine before the number to call out of the building _passed briefly through his memory, and he fumbled with the buttons on the phone until the number processed and he pressed the phone against his ear. It rang cheerfully four times before someone on the other end picked up.

"Jacob Daniels, how may I be of service?"

"Jake," Lovino said hoarsely, and suddenly his train of thought veered off track. "… Wait, did you change your name?"

"… Kid? Is that you?" the voice on the other end chuckled, and creaking noises filtered through the phone. Probably his chair or something. "Ha! I haven't spoken to you in forever! Yeah, I took off _Jones _after Mum and Dad disowned me. I'm surprised you still remember my number. What's up? You need my help with something?"

"My psychiatrist is dead," the teenager mumbled. "… There's blood _everywhere_."

Jacob _hmmm_ed thoughtfully. "That's definitely a problem… Have you called the police yet? Wait, you didn't kill him yourself, did you?"

Lovino surprised himself by digging up enough emotion to be irritated. "No and no, moron."

"Oh, that's good. The part where it wasn't you, I mean."

"… You're such an idiot, you know that?"

"You've probably mentioned it before," Jacob agreed absentmindedly. "Where are you at?"

"… The psychiatry building on King street. Room sixty-three."

"Alright, I'll be there in… something like ten minutes. Call the police while you're waiting, kiddo."

"… _grazie_," Lovino whispered, feeling a tiny bit of the pressure in his chest lift. He closed his eyes. "_Grazie_, Jacob."

"Don't worry about it," the older boy assured him. "Ten minutes, kid. Don't move anything."

There was a click as the call terminated, and Lovino lowered the phone as he opened his eyes again. The scene was the same. Broken glass, dead man, stained papers…

He lowered his gaze and nearly threw up when he realized the puddle of blood on the floor had grown larger.

* * *

><p>The police had been more than a little irritated when they showed up and Jacob was already at the scene of the crime, prodding at their evidence and shifting things around. They were substantially less irritated when he told them the cause of death, the gun involved, and the time of death.<p>

"Your friend is sort of a genius," one of the officers muttered to Lovino in amazement. The teenager rolled his eyes.

"Actually, he's a college student."

"That I am," the tall blond said airily. "To both. Hey, kid? I don't think the papers can really be salvaged, do you think they're important?"

"Dunno," Lovino mumbled, pushing himself away from the wall to peer at the bloody documents. "You're the private detective, don't ask me."

Jacob turned back to his notes with a chuckle. "You haven't changed at all, have you. How's the family?"

"You're not nearly as funny as you think you are," Lovino scoffed. "… Feliciano is still a damn idiot and Pat still acts like she's going to kill me in my fucking sleep someday."

"I shouldn't like that very much, I'd have nobody left to tease," Jacob mused. "Pat… Do you think her old group had anything to do with this?"

Lovino looked at him doubtfully. "What would the mafia want with a psychiatrist?"

"You, dolt."

Lovino opened his to respond (with as many invectives as he could think of), but one of the police officers had wandered over with narrowed eyes. "Excuse me, boys, but I can't help but think it sounds like you're withholding potentially useful information."

"You can't get anything out of him without a search warrant," Jacob warned the man, stepping in front of Lovino protectively. "Not if he doesn't want to talk."

The officer sneered. "You think you know the law, kid?"

"I'm a fucking private detective, I should hope I know my rights," snapped Jacob. "Fourth amendment. Leave him the hell alone."

The police officer glowered, marking something down on a notepad before spinning around. "Alright, men, we're done here! Somebody escort these young men back to their houses."

Jacob half-led, half-dragged Lovino down the halls as the police plodded after them. As they were at the automatic doors to the building, he spun around with a glint in his eyes. "And when you get your search warrant, consider sending it with somebody a little bit _nicer!_"

The policeman could only splutter with rage as Jacob dashed out of the building, Lovino in tow.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This is my first time publishing a fanfic~ ;3; Comments? Criticism? Flames (I'll just laugh in your face, but by all means go ahead!)

This is going to be a Gakuen!AU Hetalia fanfic, centering mainly around Spamano with multiple side pairings. Give me your preferences in the reviews, and I'll see what I can run with!

Jacob Daniels (Jacob Daniel Jones) is my New York!OC.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the characters involved. Wait, do I have to keep saying this after the first chapter?

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><p>The months after the murder seemed to blend together in Lovino's mind. The police <em>did <em>come back with a warrant, and he'd clumsily relayed his story to them. They hadn't believed him at first. What would the mafia want with a pair of little boys? But Jacob had asked (only a little rudely) that they look up Leone Vargas, and there he was. After that, the entire affair spiraled into arrests and court charges.

It felt like he had blinked and it'd become late August.

"Veh, Lovi… so we really have a Grandpa?"

Lovino paused in tossing a book into his duffel bag to give his brother an exasperated look. "Yes, moron, for the _twelfth time today_."

"But Lovi~!" Feliciano threw himself onto the bed, jostling Lovino's unpacked belongings. "Why don't I remember him at all?"

"Fucking- be careful," Lovino seethed as he rescued his telescope before it could crash to the floor. "Amnesia due to trauma or something, 'swhat the doctor's said."

"Oh, that's why I had to do all those tests!" the younger twin beamed. Lovino massaged his temples.

"Yes. That and they were probably checking to make sure you weren't a complete _retard._"

Feliciano whimpered. "Loviiiii…. That's mean."

"Whatever," his brother grumbled, tucking the telescope into his bag. "Hurry up and pack, alright? Jacob's driving us to _Nonno_'s house tomorrow, and I don't want you trying to grab all your shit at the last minute. You'll end up leaving the house without any fucking pants on."

Feliciano's lips curled down into a pout, but he rolled off the bed and slunk over to his side of the room. Lovino glanced at the familiar walls, his fingers curling into the shirt he'd been folding. This would be their last night in the apartment. He'd always wanted out of it before, wanted to go to the charming house in the little town out of the city limits. The place they _should've _ended up that fateful day, all those years ago. He'd should've been pleased with the promise of moving.

All he felt was nervous.

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><p>"You're pretty quiet today, kid," Jacob noted. Lovino shrugged, dumping his duffel bag into the bed of his friend's beat-up pickup truck. "Is something bothering you?"<p>

"Just… thinking," the teenager muttered as Feliciano skipped over. The older boys fell silent as the youngest chattered enough for all of them. When Jacob was convinced that the luggage was secured, they climbed into the truck's cab. The older twin gave their old building one last glance as Jacob twisted the key in the ignition; within moments, they'd turned a corner and the apartments were gone. Feliciano and Jacob kept up meaningless conversation for a while, but soon enough Feliciano had fallen asleep on Lovino's shoulder as they watched the countryside through the windows. Jacob was fiddling with the radio's controls when Lovino cleared his throat. The college student glanced at him.

"Is this a conversation worthy of classical music, or should I just stick with pop?"

"Just plug your mp3 in on shuffle, moron," Lovino growled, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, are you even capable of having a serious conversation?"

"You have to admit it would be funny to have angst-y violin music in the background," Jacob laughed. When he caught Lovino's annoyed expression, he sobered quickly. "What's up?"

Lovino grimaced, cheeks heating with embarrassment. "Do… do you think our grandfather will…"

"Like you?" Jacob finished for him. He hummed thoughtfully, clicking on his turn signal. "I'm not sure. I mean he _should, _but that hasn't stopped people before… I'm sorry, I'm not being a very good reassuring best friend right now."

"'S fine," Lovino sighed, adjusting himself so Feliciano wasn't quite crushing him. "I guess… I'd rather you were honest."

"It'll all turn out fine somehow," Jacob said. He gestured to the glove compartment. "Pick out some music, why don't you?"

Lovino clicked it open and shuffled through the selection. After a while, his eye twitched in irritation. "Why the hell do you have so much Spanish music?"

Jacob just grinned.

* * *

><p>"Nice place."<p>

"Yeah," Lovino said, shaking Feliciano. "Come on, moron, we're here."

Feliciano mumbled in his sleep and snuggled into Lovino's side. Jacob snickered. "Awww. How cute."

"Shut the fuck up," Lovino snapped, flushing as he shoved his brother. "Oi, _idiota!"_

The younger boy yelped, eyes flying open. "Veee~ it wasn't me!"

Jacob laughed again as Lovino groaned, climbing out of the cab. "Just… get your shit out of the truck so we can get this over with."

Jacob snagged one of the heavier boxes, glancing back at the house again. "It doesn't really look like anyone's home right now."

"That's just too bad," Lovino grumbled, heaving his duffel bag out of the truck's bed. "Unless Gramps has changed a ton, the spare key'll be under the doormat."

"Lovi is so smart!" Feliciano cheered, throwing his arms around his brother's neck. The older twin struggled to escape with his arms full.

"Idiot, you'll make me drop everything!"

Jacob twisted the doorknob, and blinked in surprise when he was met with no resistance. "Huh. I guess he's home after all."

Lovino stumbled up the steps after him, slipping into the foyer. "Just dump everything here for now, we can move it upstairs later…"

Jacob dropped the box beside Lovino's duffel bag. As he was turning around, he paused. "Did you hear something?"

"No," Lovino frowned. "What was it?"

"It sounded like people talking," Jacob said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "But… if there was anyone here they'd have come to see us already, right? I mean we're not exactly quiet."

"Speak for yourself, bastard."

"You're so mean to me," Jacob sighed theatrically, ducking back outside. As the older boy tried to help Feliciano with his luggage, Lovino grabbed a box and headed back into the house. He was setting the box down when he realized _holy shit there really were voices!_

It sounded like they were coming from the kitchen.

He should probably go get Jacob.

But they probably weren't _dangerous_…

As quietly as he could, he crossed the living room and peeked around the doorframe. Three older teenagers were chatting animatedly with each other, all of them looking to be of different nationalities and _none of them with shirts on._

Suddenly one glanced back at him, and he froze when his eyes met with ruby red counterparts. The albino's face morphed into a wide smirk.

"Well, well, well… What do we have _here_?"

His friends turned as well, and Lovino nervously began backing away, eyes wide and face flushed. One of the boys came forward as he went back, a lewd grin on the blond's face.

"Don't run off, _mon cheri, _we just want to talk to you~"

Just talk? Yeah _right_, more like sexually _assault _and oh dammit he really shouldn't have gone to the kitchen alone, Lovino thought frantically as the older boy backed him into the corner of the living room. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice again. The blond (_he sounded French, how could this get any worse_) reached out for him, and suddenly he found he had the energy to punch him in the stomach and _get the fuck out of there_.

"J… Jacob!" he yelled as he fled, nearly colliding with his friend as he skidded out the front door. "_Jake! _There's crazy shirtless rapists in there!"

"Really?" Jacob said airily, pushing past him to drop his box in the foyer and peer across the room. The blond Frenchman was still doubled over in pain, Lovino noticed with a certain degree of satisfaction, but his friends had come over to laugh at him. All three looked up at Jacob's entrance. The college student looked at them, then back at Lovino, and shrugged.

"Well, they seem like they fit the _crazy _and _shirtless _parts…"

"Veeeh, what's going on?" Feliciano chirped, popping up behind Lovino. The older twin buried his face in his hands, mumbling something that sounded like _surrounded by fucking morons_ to Jacob. "Oh! Hi! Are you our new neighbors?"

The albino stepped forward, still smirking. "_I _am. These pansies are my friends, they live a little farther away. Whatcha doing moving in with Mister Vargas? You look like you're related to him."

"He's our grandfather," Lovino said irritably. "What the hell are you people doing in his house?"

"Aw, cutie, such harsh words," the older boy cooed, taking a few wide strides closer. Lovino edged behind Jacob. "My _awesome _name is Gilbert. What can I call ya?"

When Lovino had been glowering for several seconds and it was apparent he wasn't going to answer, Jacob rolled his eyes and volunteered, "This one is Lovino, and that's Feliciano."

"And who might you be?" The French boy purred, sliding closer. Jacob looked amused, but he held up a hand in warning regardless.

"I'm just the chauffeur," he drawled. He stepped back, murmuring an apology when he nearly crushed Lovino's foot. "C'mon, you two, let's finish hauling your stuff inside."

Lovino glanced back at the older teens warily, then hurried out to the truck. Feliciano skipped alongside him, practically glowing with cheerfulness.

"Ve~ our neighbors seem really nice, Lovi, don't you think?"

"No," Lovino said bluntly. He passed the lightest of the remaining boxes to his brother. "I think they're fucking creepers."

"But Lovi~" The younger twin cooed. The elder swatted him over the head.

"But what?" he snapped. "They were wandering around our house without shirts on, _idiota!"_

"Well they weren't really hard on the eyes," Feliciano said without hesitation. Lovino spluttered, his face flushing scarlet, while Feliciano just smiled and continued. "And it's really warm out, so why not~?"

"You've tainted my little brother's mind," Lovino growled when Jacob took a box from him. The older boy smiled smugly.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Because these chapters are so short, I'll go ahead and post this one sooner than I intended. I'll try to make future chapters a bit longer~

Lovino will most likely seem a little OOC for some of the parts where he's around Jacob, but hopefully it won't be too awful. It's like a brotherly relationship! Except Lovi gets along with Jacob better than he gets along with Feliciano, haha.

Comments? Criticism? Flames? Reviewers get internet cookies!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but I _do _own a fairly awesome art program that distracted me while I was trying to write this!

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><p>Lovino came back inside with the last box, and nearly dropped it on his foot when he realized Gilbert and his friends were going through their things.<p>

"_What the fuck do you think you're doing?"_

The third boy, with tanned skin and dark, curly hair looked up, and gave Lovino a grin. "Just looking to see what kind of things you're interested in~ Are you a stargazer?"

"Wh… that's not _important_," Lovino protested, trying to grab his telescope back from the older teen. He just laughed and ducked out of the way. "Hey, give that back!"

"Lovino, isn't it?" the older boy grinned. "My name's Antonio! I'm from Spain. Where are you from?"

"I don't care where you're from and that's none of your business!" Lovino hissed, snatching at the telescope again. Antonio held it up out of reach. "Dammit, you better not drop that!"

"I won't! It's a really nice telescope, you know?" Antonio turned it about in his hand as though he was inspecting it. "But then, I don't know much about telescopes… why don't you teach me~?"

"_Creeper!" _Lovino yelled, flustered. Antonio beamed at him, using his free hand to ruffle the younger boy's hair.

"You look like a _tomate,_" he said cheerfully. Lovino gaped at him. "Haha, how cute!"

Lovino spluttered incoherently for a moment, finally managing to force out a harsh "_Fuck you!_" as he yanked Antonio's arm down to take his telescope. The Spaniard only smiled lazily as Lovino backed away.

"You're Italian."

It wasn't a question. Lovino scoffed. "What gave it away, dumbass? The accent, or the shirt?"

"Both," Antonio chuckled, glancing over the Italian soccer jersey. Lovino grimaced at the attention. Fortunately, Jacob strode over to them just then, swatting Lovino's shoulder to gain his attention.

"Hey, kiddo, you all set?"

"Hmm." Lovino eyed the pile of boxes, then shrugged. "Looks like everything to me."

"Great," the college student sighed contentedly, stretching. "Well… I'd like to stay and help you unpack, but I've gotta get back to work."

"Whatever," Lovino grumbled halfheartedly.

"Keep fed, do your homework, don't get molested… You know how to call me if something comes up," Jacob said. "I'll try to come see you at Christmas. Am I forgetting anything?"

"No, _Mom_," Lovino snapped, attempting to will away the embarrassed flush that rose to his cheeks when the older boys snickered. "Just leave already!"

Jacob laughed fondly, waving as he headed out the door. "Take care, _Lovi! _Bye Feliciano!"

"Dammit, Jake!"

"Veh~ _Ciao_, Jacob!"

Lovino fumed as the door slammed shut, but Feliciano just smiled happily.

"It was so nice of him to help us move all our stuff~ Right, Lovi?"

"S'not like there was very much to move," Lovino pointed out, turning back to the pile to promptly whack Antonio over the head when he was caught going through them again. "Oi, cut it out! You've had your fun, now leave!"

"That's not cute at all," Antonio whined, rubbing his sore head. Gilbert snickered again.

"Sorry, cutie, your gramps asked us to stick around and help you out," he drawled, leaning closer to Lovino. The Italian growled out a warning, ducking around the older boy to pick up his duffel bag.

"Then quit _creeping _and make yourselves useful," he barked. "Most of that crap is Feliciano's, I'll come back for the rest of mine in a minute…"

"Are our rooms upstairs?" Feliciano asked hopefully. Lovino rolled his eyes and nodded, trying not to let his bag overbalance him on his way up the stairs. The older boys followed quickly. Lovino glanced around the second floor landing, then headed to the opposite end of the hall to twist a door open. He wheezed when a cloud of dust swirled up.

"_Shit! _What'd he do, move in all the furniture then never set foot in here again?"

"I don't think Mister Vargas really comes upstairs at all," Antonio offered from behind him. "At least, he's _always _downstairs whenever we're here."

"Huh," Lovino mumbled, then blinked and glowered over his shoulder. "This is my room, moron, don't bring Feliciano's stuff _here!"_

"So mean!" Antonio laughed. "But this box has your name on it, see?"

Lovino glared it doubtfully, but sure enough the box bore the label _Lovino Vargas _in his own messy handwriting. He dropped his bag onto the floor and snatched the box away from the Spaniard. "Idiot, why'd you take this? I told you I would go back for it in a minute!"

"Just helping," Antonio said cheerfully, stepping back out into the hallway only to crash into Gilbert. The albino swore and fumbled with the package in his arms.

"Jeez, Toni, watch where you're going!" he complained. When he noticed Lovino, he smirked. "Whatcha looking at, kid?"

Lovino scoffed, turning away to set his box down on the bed. He half-ran past Antonio and Gilbert to avoid any unpleasant surprises, glaring over the stair railing when a litany of smooth French drifted up. "What're you doing with my brother, French bastard?"

"Ah, I was simply advising him on how to cool down in the heat," the blond called back quickly. He craned his neck to grin lewdly up at Lovino. "You, as well- you will be much cooler if you t-"

"I'm not taking off my clothes!" Lovino yelled, red flaring in his cheeks. "Dammit! Feliciano, you'd better have all your clothes on when I get down there!"

"But Looooviiiiii~"

He set off down the stairs at a dead sprint and nearly crashed into his twin at the bottom. "Where the hell is your shirt?" he yelped, attempting to twist away when Feliciano's arms locked around his torso in a hug. The younger Italian giggled, nuzzling against his brother's shoulder.

"Come on, Lovi, it's so hot ouuuut…. We never got to do this when we lived with Pat! Pleeeease?" he begged.

"You're going to get yourself molested," Lovino seethed, glaring at the French blond who was standing to the side. "What do you think you're staring at, pervert?"

"As amusing as your little nicknames are, my name is Francis," the older boy laughed. "We weren't properly introduced before, _oui?_"

"You're still a pervert," Lovino muttered. He finally wriggled out of Feliciano's embrace. "If it's too hot for a shirt, it's too hot for hugs! Finish moving all your shit upstairs already!"

"You're no fun, Lovi," Feliciano whined, trying not to struggle with the box he'd grabbed. "Can't we just skip this and go meet Grandpa?"

"We'll still have to do it later, idiot."

"Please?" Puppy eyes and a trembling lower lip. "Please, Lovi?" Shit, were his eyes watering? "Pleeease…?"

Lovino threw up his hands in exasperation. "_Mio Dio_, fine! But we're not stopping for gelato or lost puppies, _capisci?_"

"_Genial! _I'll go get Gilbert and _Antoine_-"

"Who invited you rapists?"

"Aww, Lovi! It'll be more fun with them!"

* * *

><p>According to Gilbert, Leone Vargas was at his house, most likely to be found annoying Gilbert's brother and grandfather. Lovino vaguely remembered his grandfather harassing a blond man in the local bar when they'd come to look at the house for the first time, and figured that even if it wasn't the same man- well, it made sense either way. His <em>nonno <em>had always been fairly good at getting on people's nerves. It had taken a while to find a real-estate agent who would work with them for an extended period of time.

Gilbert's house was just next door, which Lovino considered a mixed blessing; on one hand they wouldn't have to walk very far to find their grandfather, but on the other hand he _lived next door to Gilbert_. Lovino had never been very social, but he figured that even if he had he probably wouldn't have been pleased with the housing arrangements.

"Be really quiet," the albino mumbled as he eased his front door open. Feliciano beamed and saluted. Lovino raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but his protests were quickly muffled by Antonio's hand. The older boy dragged him along as they crept inside, following the quiet noise of conversation from the kitchen. Gilbert pressed himself to the wall and peeked around the doorway; Lovino rolled his eyes as the albino coiled himself to lunge-

"_Bruder_, what are you doing?"

Something in the kitchen met the floor with a loud _crash!_ and a heavy amount of profanity. Lovino was amused to notice that some of it was Gilbert's.

"Dammit, Ludwig, you ruined my awesome entrance," Gilbert complained, straightening from his crouch to poke the other boy. The blond looked unimpressed. "I was going to scare Gramps, but nooo…"

"Don't worry, Gilbert, Alfner was plenty startled," a familiar voice called cheerfully from inside the kitchen. "Are my boys with you? Bring them in!"

"Oh yeah." Gilbert glanced back at them, and grinned. "You can let go of him now, Toni."

When the hand over his mouth showed no signs of moving, Lovino decided he was entitled to speed up the process. With an elbow to Antonio's gut. The Spaniard whined in pain as he finally moved away. "That hurt, Lovi…"

"Don't call me that," Lovino growled, following Gilbert into the kitchen. He yelped when his vision was almost immediately compromised by someone's shirt. "What the hell-!"

"Lovino!" his grandfather laughed, nearly lifting him off the ground as he was spun around in a hug. "Oh, you're so grown up now! Are you alright? Did you get here okay?"

"Feliciano's right behind me, ask him," Lovino muttered evasively.

"But I'm asking _you_." Leone's grip loosened a bit, but it was only enough for Lovino to breathe and the elderly man to beam at his other grandson. "That friend of yours- Jordan, was it? He drove you, yes?"

"Jacob," Lovino and Feliciano corrected in unison, Feliciano throwing a bright smile at their grandfather.

"Of course, Jacob," Leone said dismissively. "He sounded like a nice boy, when I spoke to him, and it was good of him to help you move… Is he your upperclassman, Lovi?"

"Jake is in _college, _Gramps," Lovino scoffed. "He's _twenty one._"

Leone made a noise of disapproval. "Isn't he a little _old _to be hanging around you boys?"

"Yeah, he might be a pervert!" Gilbert cackled, diving behind Ludwig when Lovino threw a punch at him. The Italian scowled in irritation, and Feliciano cut in to save everyone.

"Veh~ Jacob was our baby-sitter when Pat first started taking care of us!" he chirped. "And he's not _that _old…"

"And even if he was a pervert, he couldn't possibly be any worse than _these _bastards," Lovino shot at Gilbert, who raised his hands in mock surrender. From behind Leone, another man groaned.

"Gilbert, go put a shirt on. And lend some to your friends."

He looked an awful lot like Gilbert's brother, Lovino thought. Probably their grandfather.

"Come _on_, _Opa_," Gilbert whined. "It's so hot out… Feliciano isn't wearing a shirt!"

"Ludwig and Lovino are," the older man said dryly. "You won't melt. Either head down to the lake, or put on a shirt."

"Lake?" Gilbert suggested, glancing back to the others. Antonio nodded vigorously.

"Lake!"

"Lake," Francis agreed.

"Lake!" Feliciano cried happily. Lovino grabbed him by the arm.

"We don't own swim trunks, idiot," he hissed under his breath. "Much less _know how to swim!"_

"Oh…" Feliciano's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "That's right…"

"What's that?" Leone leaned closer curiously. "What's the matter?"

"It doesn't matter, dammit," Lovino muttered, his cheeks going pink with embarrassment. He kept his grip on his brother's wrist and tugged him towards the exit. "Let's go unpack…"

"What? That's so un-awesome!" Gilbert grabbed Lovino by the back of his shirt. "Hang out with us!"

"Make some new friends, Lovi!" Leone said cheerfully. "Oh, and take Ludwig with you."

Ludwig looked to his grandfather helplessly, but the taller blond merely rolled his eyes and went back to cooking. "Mister Vargas, I, uh… have to finish my… summer reading."

Leone stared at him blankly. "There were no summer reading assignments for those going into junior year…"

"W-well…" Ludwig searched desperately for a way out. "Your grandsons haven't even had a chance to unpack their trunks yet…"

"Feliciano can borrow my spare trunks," Gilbert said victoriously, then frowned thoughtfully. "But then Grumpy wouldn't have any…"

Lovino considered being offended, but decided he had better things to worry about. Like _how the hell was he going to swim_.

"Vasco's at camp for the summer, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we took his," Antonio suggested. He looked Lovino up and down appraisingly. "They might be a little big on you, though…"

"Just keep the drawstring tight," Leone said lazily, shoving Lovino and Ludwig towards the other boys. "Go on, enjoy the water!"

This, Lovino decided, had no hope of ending well.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later found him waiting awkwardly in Antonio's living room as the older teen searched the house for towels. The trunks, fortunately enough, were a plain forest green, no awkward writing or logos to be seen on them. Antonio's own trunks bore the Spanish flag and crest, and Lovino could only be thankful that Antonio's older brother was not as patriotic as the moron he'd spent the last twenty minutes with. The problem of size had been solved easily enough, as Leone predicted, by tying the drawstring.<p>

Antonio finally reappeared with a pile of towels and a bright smile. "Ready to go?"

It was now or never.

"Actually, I, uh… I don't…" Embarrassing the shit out of yourself was better than drowning, right? "I don't, um, know… h-how…"

He trailed off. Antonio continued staring at him in confusion. "Dammit, never mind!"

Lovino turned to storm out, but Antonio caught him by the wrist. "Wait! You're trying to say you don't know how to swim, right?"

The Italian mumbled an affirmative, shifting his weight anxiously. His head shot up and his eyes narrowed when Antonio laughed. "Fucking- don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not, calm down," Antonio soothed, releasing his wrist and taking a step closer. "Why didn't you say so before, _amigo? _We can teach you."

"I don't want your perverted friends anywhere near me," Lovino snapped. When Antonio began to grin, he backtracked in horror. "Or you, bastard!"

"Come on, Lovi, it will be fun!" Antonio cooed, stepping closer again. This time Lovino took a step back. "We won't let anything happen to you. You don't have to go in any deeper than you want to."

"… What about Feliciano?" Lovino asked hesitantly. "He doesn't know either…"

"Gilbert's brother can teach him!" Antonio beamed. "Ludwig's a great teacher!"

Lovino hummed noncommittally, thinking it over. Antonio watched him hopefully until he gave in with a small shrug. "Fine, but if either of us gets molested I'm eviscerating all of you with a spoon."

"How would you do that?" Antonio laughed again (he did that a lot, Lovino mused), finally moving to the front door. Lovino followed him out.

"Painfully," he absentmindedly replied.

"Of course," Antonio chuckled. "I hope Gil and the others haven't been waiting on us…"

"If they're anything like you, they're still looking for towels," Lovino grumbled. Antonio whined pathetically.

"_Oye, _I didn't take _that_ long…"

"You're such a kid," Lovino scoffed. "How old _are _you, anyway?"

"Gil and Franny and I will be seniors this year," Antonio sighed. "Our last year of high school… you and Feliciano will be juniors with Ludwig, right?"

"Probably," Lovino ran his fingers through his hair, shrugging. Antonio's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Probably? Why wouldn't y- _whoa!"_

"Aaugh! Goddammit!"

"Kesesesesesese~ You guys sure are jumpy," Gilbert snickered, thumping Antonio on the shoulder. "Francis' parents are letting us borrow the jeep. C'mon!"

Lovino grumbled profanity as the older boys dragged him to a black jeep idling at the curb. He jerked to a halt, ignoring Gilbert's attempts to tug him along. "The hell? There's no way all six of us will fit in there!"

"You and Feliciano will have to sit on laps," Gilbert said dismissively. He grinned at Lovino's horrified expression. "Aww, cutie, don't be like that. The rest of us are too heavy. Don't worry, we don't bite… hard!"

With that, he seized a spluttering Lovino by the waist and lifted him into the jeep, ignoring all protests. "I call Francis rides shotgun!" He crowed. Ludwig glared at him from the driver's seat while Francis whined.

"_Mais mon ami_, I wanted-"

"I don't caaaaare~" Gilbert sang, hopping into the back and climbing over Lovino. "Yo, Feliciano! You're gonna have to sit in my lap so we can all fit in, okay?"

"_Sì, _Gil!" Feliciano laughed, wriggling to make room so he could drop into Gilbert's lap. Lovino jumped out the open door in an attempt to escape only to be caught by Antonio and hauled in again.

"Where do you think you're going, _amigo?" _he laughed. Lovino squirmed desperately.

"Fuck you, let me go! I'm _not _sitting in your lap!"

"Come on, Lovi, it'll be fun!"

"Shut up, Feli!"

Feliciano squealed. "You called me Feli!"

"So what?" Lovino demanded. Antonio used his momentary distraction to wrestle him into place and slam the car door shut. "Ah, dammit!"

"All set, Luddy!" Gilbert crowed. "Step on it!"

Dammit, Lovino thought as they sped out of the town. _God_dammit.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Ohoho, Antonio is finally introduced! I'm sorry for anyone who was looking for sappy love at first sight. Maybe someday I will write sappy love at first sight- just not today.

I have seen multiple fics that include one or both of the Italy brothers threatening violent measures with a spoon, and honestly it was just too amusing not to include.

I feel like I picked really weird names for Rome and Germania, but on the other hand I don't feel like changing them, so there you go.

_Spanish;_

_tomate_ = tomato

_amigo _= friend

_oye _= basically "hey", I think

_Italian;_

_mio Dio!_ = my God!

_capisci? _= you understand?

_nonno_ = grandfather

_sì! _= yes (how would you _not _know that?)

_French;_

_oui _= yes

_genial! _= brilliant!

_mais mon ami = _but my friend

_German;_

_bruder _= brother (no really?)

_Opa _= grandfather

If I've already translated something, I probably won't translate it again in future chapters, so check back if I don't translate and you have no idea what on Earth is being said!

Reviews make me a happy author. And inspire me to write faster. :D


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters involved in it.

* * *

><p>By the time the trio of older boys were satisfied by their progress, the edges of the horizon were starting to tint with pink. Lovino had never been more relieved to see a jeep in his life.<p>

"By the time you have your swimming unit in gym, you'll be swimming laps around us," Gilbert declared, invading the younger boy's personal space to sling an arm across his shoulders. After a moment, he reconsidered this and shrugged. "Well… maybe Francis, at least."

"Fucking brilliant," Lovino said sourly, shoving Gilbert away. "Get off me."

"_Hurt_ful!" the albino gasped dramatically. "You should be nicer to your neighbors. I could kill you in your sleep."

_-could kill you in your sleep, it would be so easy, or maybe your sweet little brother-_

"Don't," Lovino started, then stopped to swallow. "Don't say shit like that, okay?"

Francis, on Gilbert's other side, paused to look at him strangely. "Are you quite all right, _cheri? _You look rather pale."

_-go ahead and tell, see what happens to you-_

"Yeah," the Italian muttered, shaking his head to dispel the haunting voice. "Just… tired."

"Ve~ Me too!" Lithe arms wound themselves around Lovino's middle. He craned his neck around to look into Feliciano's wide, innocent eyes. "Learning to swim is hard! Let's take a nap when we get home, okay?"

Lovino nodded silently, edging towards the nearby jeep. Antonio patted his shoulder sympathetically and slid in ahead of him. Lovino climbed in after him, dropping exhaustedly into the older boy's lap without any protest. Antonio made a quiet noise. It seemed to be stranded somewhere between surprise and satisfaction, Lovino thought distractedly. Pervert. When everyone was buckled in and the car had started, he let his eyelids flutter closed.

"Hey… Feli," he mumbled. His brother hummed happily in response, reaching over to squeeze his hand. He squeezed back gently. "… Wake me up when we get home, _capisci?"_

"_Sì, _Lovi," Feliciano cooed reassuringly. "Get some sleep."

Lovino's last coherent thought was that he would, dammit, because he'd earned it putting up with these morons all afternoon.

Besides, learning to swim was hard.

* * *

><p>When he woke up later, there was something soft under his head and something warm across his shoulders. Something <em>fuzzy <em>and warm.

He hoped it wasn't breathing.

He cracked an eye open suspiciously, and smirked with sleep-dazed triumph when it was only a blanket. Confidant that the surrounding quiet meant a lack of annoying family or classmates, he burrowed his face back into the pillow and began to drift off again. He nearly snarled in annoyance when quick footsteps tumbled down the stairs. After one last precious moment of silence and comfort, he found himself crushed under the weight of another body.

"_Hnnngh- Feliciano!"_

"Oh, you're awake!" Feliciano pouted as his brother desperately tried to shove him off. "I thought we could take a nap together…"

"Geddoff, moron, I can't _breathe! _You're too big for this shit now!" Lovino gasped, finally managing to push his brother off the couch. He landed on the floor with a satisfying _thud._

"Lovi, that hurt!" Feliciano whimpered. He tried to climb back onto the couch. Lovino shoved him back again. "Come on, we haven't taken a nap together in _forever_…"

"I might've been more inclined to it if you hadn't _crushed my lungs_," Lovino scoffed. He rolled off the couch, carefully landing next to his brother. "Take a nap by yourself, I'm going to go take a shower. I feel _gross_."

Feliciano momentarily seemed prepared to whimper and cry his brother into a state of sympathy (he always gave in when he felt sorry for the little moron), but he quickly brightened. "We can take a bath together!"

Lovino slowly reached up to massage his temples. "… Feliciano…."

"Yes?" the younger Italian beamed.

"We're _sixteen_," Lovino said flatly. "You'll be a _senior _next year. I might be in college then. What are you going to do when I'm not around, huh?"

Feliciano wailed at that, and threw his arms around his brother's shoulders. "Don't leave me, Lovi!"

"_Idiota, _this is exactly what I'm talking about!" Lovino yelped. He tried to wriggle away, only succeeding after he'd grabbed Feliciano by the hair and dragged him back a bit. "You can't rely on me for everything, dammit!"

Feliciano's lower lip trembled.

"You'll have to survive on your own someday," Lovino muttered, trying to sound reasonable.

Watery eyes.

"You can't rely on me at school all the time anymore, either, you know I'm going up…"

Sniffle.

"And… and… _Mio Dio_, would you _stop _that?" Lovino said exasperatedly. He whacked Feliciano across the back of the head as he stood. "I'm not taking a nap _or _a bath with you, especially when those perverts are probably still around!"

"Gilbert and his friends already went home," Feliciano said sulkily, crossing his arms. "Antonio said he'd bring your clothes back tomorrow…"

Lovino grimaced as his excuse was shot down. "Yeah, well- _wait just a fucking minute._"

He'd left his change of clothes at Antonio's house when he'd borrowed the swim trunks. He'd been wearing the trunks when he fell asleep.

He looked down at himself.

_Calculations 25%… 50%… 75%… Complete. Reaction will launch in t minus-_

"Feliciano," he began, voice dangerously void of emotion. "_Who changed my clothes?"_

"Veeeee!" Feliciano yelped, scrambling backwards. "I-I can't move you myself, you're w-way too heavy and you never stay still in your sleep a-and-"

"_Who?"_

"D-don't be angry, Lovi!" he wailed. "Grandpa helped me when we got home, after the others left!"

"You couldn't have just woken me up?" Lovino shouted. "Better yet, just _left me be_ and let me deal with the trunks _later _on my _own?"_

"G-Grandpa didn't want you to get the couch w-wet! It's not that bad, Lovi, it's just Grandpa!"

"I'm not _five_, Feliciano, I don't need a crazy old man to change my clothes for me!" Lovino grabbed a couch cushion and tossed it at his brothers head. Satisfied with the responding yelped, he stormed off towards the stairs. "I'm going to take a shower, dammit. Don't even think about trying to join me!"

He stomped the rest of the way to the bathroom without waiting for a response, and slammed the door behind himself. He felt a slight twinge of guilt as he pulled his shirt off over his head. Whatever, he told himself halfheartedly. The little moron would have to grow up _someday_. He reached for the faucet and kicked off his pants at the same time. If he'd managed it when they were ten, Feliciano could figure it out when they were sixteen, right? The shower head finally sputtered to life, and he stepped under the warm stream of water, sighing as his shoulders slowly relaxed. For a while he just stood there, letting his thoughts float down more simplistic venues. Eventually he grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed himself down. Hair-washing was trickier- he'd used some gel to keep his curl less fucking _noticeable, _and while he wanted the hair gel out he didn't relish the idea of rubbing the curl around to accomplish it. He winced as he massaged shampoo into the auburn curls. _Quick and easy, get it over with. _There was no way in Hell he was going to dissolve into a writhing mess in his grandfather's _bathtub._ The irritating slickness of the gel gave way to the smooth curl of his hair, and he closed his eyes as he dropped his arms and let the hot water rinse the shampoo out. Even when it was out, he let the water keep going for a moment. It was only when faced with surfacing guilt over his grandfather's hot water bill that he fumbled behind himself for the faucet, eyes still closed. He snagged a towel and rubbed his hair dry(ish, he thought, unamused, when it dripped in his eyes anyway) before wrapping it around his waist. He peeked out the door.

The hall was empty.

He slipped out the door as quietly as he could, then into his room. Someone had drawn the curtains closed. His duffel bag lay open on the floor. His eyes narrowed momentarily, but he shrugged it off; it was probably his grandfather getting the clothes he'd been changed into. He could ask at dinner. Speaking of dinner… that sounded really good right about now. He threw on a shirt and boxers. He'd almost gone out the door when he stopped, glanced back forlornly, and put on some pants. You never knew when unexpected visitors would be over for dinner.

Also, he could hear voices downstairs and that didn't really sound like Feliciano.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Feliciano turned hopeful eyes to him from the couch. He could almost _hear _the childish question in them; _you're not still mad at me, right? You love me, right?_

"Idiot," Lovino said, and somehow it managed to come out fond. "Next time just wake me up, okay?"

"_Sì, _Lovi!" Feliciano cried happily, jumping up as though to hug him. Fortunately, Gilbert poked his head around the corner just then.

"Hey, kiddo, Gramps says dinner is- ooooh," he drawled, glancing over Lovino. "Nice look you have going there, cutie."

"Fuck off," Lovino grumbled. He gave Feliciano an exasperated look. "What's the pervert doing here again?"

"Ve~ Gilbert's grandpa and our grandpa are good friends, so they came over to have dinner with us and… and…" Feliciano's brow furrowed in concentration. "What was the other part, Gilbert?"

"Something about getting you acquainted with the new house and neighbors and making a good first impression," the albino said dismissively, shrugging it off. "Food is food, right?"

"You've probably slipped date-rape into it or something," Lovino sniffed. He brushed past Gilbert into the kitchen. "Oi, Gramps, what are we eating?"

"Lovino?" Leone looked over from the stove and grinned. "Ah, there you are! Why so disheveled? Didn't want to brush your hair?"

Lovino glowered. From the kitchen table, Ludwig hesitantly offered, "… I think it's some sort of pasta."

Lovino grunted in an approving sort of way and dropped into a chair on the opposite end of the table. Feliciano skipped in and happily settled down next to him.

"Our first real family dinner!" he laughed, snuggling up to Lovino's side. "Aren't you happy, Lovi?"

"Waaaaaait a minute," Gilbert dropped into the chair on Lovino's other side. "Did you live with Mister Vargas until you were what, six? This isn't _really _that new."

Leone appeared to be following the same train of thought. He stared at Lovino in confusion. His elder grandson lowered his gaze to the floor.

"… Feliciano doesn't remember anything before we lived with Pat."

Silence.

There was a sharp crackle as Leone shut off the fire on the stove and shoved the pot back onto a different burner. He turned back to Lovino and crossed his arms.

"Explain."

"What is there to explain?" Lovino snapped defensively, protectively drawing Feliciano closer to him out of instinct. "Any words in that sentence that you couldn't understand."

"Veh, Lovi, calm down," Feliciano mumbled, his voice muffled by Lovino's shirt. Leone ignored him.

"My youngest grandson is _amnesiac _and _nobody told me?"_

"I'm telling you right now, aren't I?" Lovino scowled. Everyone jumped when Leone slammed his fists down onto the table.

"_Do you know how much I worried about you boys? _I thought you'd both made it back perfectly safe, I thought-"

"_He is safe! _Safer than _I _am! How much safer than fucking _ignorant _can you get?" Lovino interrupted angrily. Feliciano whimpered and clung to his shirt. "What do you expect for me to do, _give him his memories back? _I can't do that, dammit! I told him everything I could! What more do you _want_?"

"I want _my _Feliciano back, not just a shell of what he was!" Leone shouted. There was silence again, this time disturbed only by the quiet sounds of inhalation and exhalation. Ludwig had sunk into his seat nervously while Gilbert gaped at them. Reality seemed to sink into Leon's mind again, and he swallowed as though he was preparing to speak. Gilbert cut him off.

"Well, not that this wasn't… incredibly enlightening… but I'm _really fucking hungry _and if anybody can tell me what to do, I _might _help finish the food."

"Drain the pasta over the sink and dump it into that pan with the sauce," Lovino muttered. "Where's _your _grandfather, anyway?"

"Gettin' something from our house," Gilbert shrugged, wandering up to the stove. "Probably beer. You drink at all, cutie?"

Lovino gave him an unimpressed glare.

"… Is that a no?"

"Keep thinking about it, bastard, I'm sure you'll figure it out yourself."

The back door creaked open, and Lovino jumped a little as Alfner stepped in. The German man raised an eyebrow at the general silence. "Leone, are you actually _behaving _yourself? This is unheard of."

"Stuff it, Alf," Leone grumbled, finally slumping into a chair between Ludwig and Gilbert. Alfner ignored him.

"And is that Gilbert doing something _useful_?"

"I'm hungry, old man, I'm not going to wait around for someone else to do the job," Gilbert scoffed. "Hey, cutie, what do I do after I put it in the sauce?"

"_Che, _just move over," Lovino wriggled out of Feliciano's embrace to grab the spoon from Gilbert. "And _quit calling me that_."

"What, cutie?"

"Yes. That."

"Why?" Gilbert smiled lazily, leaning into Lovino's personal space. The smaller boy paused in stirring to glare. "Don't you like having a nickname?"

"No," Lovino said, kicking him in the shin lightly until he backed away. "I do not. Go find someone else to hit on." He noticed his mistake a split second later, when the albino dashed back to the table. "And stay away from my brother!"

"There's nobody else to hit on that isn't an old man or a relation of mine," Gilbert complained, sliding back over to the stove. "It's your choice, cutie."

"It's _about _to be my choice to kill you where you stand," Lovino warned him, shifting so he could glance at Leone over his shoulder. The older man ignored him, staring down at the table. Lovino muttered a selection of profanity under his breath as he turned off the stove and jerked his head back towards the table. "Anybody who wants to be fed can come up and get it right now or lose their share!"

There was a clatter as everyone seized plates and dashed over to the stove to be served. Conversation was scarce for the rest of dinner, and the Beilschmidts excused themselves as soon as the table had been cleared.

Lovino went back to his room for the night without a second glance at his grandfather.

* * *

><p>He woke up the next morning to insistent pounding on his door. His first movement was to glower at his alarm clock; unfortunately, the ten thirty it displayed was not giving him an excuse to stay in bed. He dragged himself across the room and rested his head against the door frame.<p>

"Who is it?" he muttered, yawning lazily. The person on the other side giggled, and Lovino felt his need for sleep melt into a wish that his brother would at least _try _to be masculine. When this was followed by silence, he rolled his eyes and kicked his side of the door lightly. "I can tell that's you, Feliciano. What do you want?"

"Get dressed, okay?" Feliciano mumbled, and Lovino felt a sliver of suspicion when he heard the hitch in Feliciano's voice that meant he was trying not to laugh. "Breakfast is ready! I made tiramisu, so you'd better hurry before it's all gone!"

"Fine. I mean, wait-" Lovino's brain processed the thought of other people being around to eat his share. "… Those perverts are here again, aren't they."

"Noo…" Feliciano laughed nervously. "O-of course not!"

Lovino yanked the door open so he could glare properly. "Dammit, Feliciano, we haven't even been here for a full day! What are you doing inviting people over already?"

Feliciano smiled hopefully. "Tiramisu?"

"… Next time, you're not getting out of this by bribing me with food," Lovino grumbled, shutting the door again. "I'll meet you downstairs in a minute, okay?"

"_Sì, _Lovi!" Feliciano squealed, and Lovino could _hear _him skipping away only to stumble on the stairs. He facepalmed and glared up at the ceiling. _Why do you do this to me, Lord?_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Sorry to make you wait so long for a chapter update! We've only got a month or so of school left, so they're giving us all the labs and projects now. I've been busy keeping up.

Well, that and my muse went on vacation for a while.

This chapter was brought to you by music from the Legend of Zelda games! Which is a pretty great series, if you ask me. Good games, overall good graphics, even better music.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters involved in it.

Somebody tell me, does tiramisu count as a cake? The tiramisu _I've _seen _looks _like cake, but I'm not sure.

* * *

><p>The kitchen was full of all the usual noises that came with Feliciano's tiramisu; the clatter of forks and plates, the mumbles of people trying to talk around a mouthful of cake, and the exclamations as they fought over the last piece of cake. Even the promise of tiramisu had not made waking up much better, but Lovino felt a bit more cheerful when Feliciano's voice rang louder than all the others.<p>

"Veh, _neither _of you gets it! That last piece is Lovi's!"

"Thanks, Feli," he mumbled, rubbing a bit of sleep out of his eyes as he grabbed the last plate. Gilbert snickered.

"Good morning to you, too, sunshine," he drawled, leaning across the table in an attempt to invade the Italian's personal space. "Do you have a problem with brushing your hair or something? You didn't do it yesterday, either."

"Do it after you eat your cake, _fratello_," Feliciano called from the sink, where he had already begun to clean up. "If you don't do it now, it'll just be even worse later…"

"Yeah, yeah," Lovino muttered. He shoved a forkful of tiramisu into his mouth. "Wha'eveh…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Lovi," Leone scolded, turning the page of his newspaper. "Oh, and take care of your brother, alright? I've got to go to a meeting for work in the city, and I won't be back until evening… Don't hold dinner for me."

Lovino eyed him warily for a moment, then shrugged. If he was willing to miss out on Feliciano's cooking, that was _his _loss. "If that's what you really want, Gramps."

"And don't throw Gilbert out, he's babysitting you."

Lovino nearly choked on his cake. Gilbert smirked.

"_Gilbert is __**what.**_"

"Don't be difficult, Lovino, I can't leave you alone in the house all day," Leone reasoned. Lovino glowered at him.

"We're _sixteen_, old man! How's _Gilbert _any more responsible than I am?"

Leone shrugged. "Alfner said it would be a good idea."

"_What._"

"Something something something _teach the boy some responsibility _something something," Gilbert said carelessly. "But don't worry, cutie, nothing about today will be _responsible. _We're going to have _fun_."

Lovino gave his grandfather a meaningful glare. Leone shrugged.

"I'm sure whatever it is, it won't be _illegal_, and that's what's important!" He tossed his paper onto the table and stood. "Oh, and remember to finish unpacking."

"_Gramps_."

"Help Feliciano, too!" Leone laughed, ruffling his younger grandson's hair. "Alright, ciao!"

"_Gramps- _oh, fuck this," Lovino growled, sinking back into his chair as their grandfather dodged out of the kitchen. "Bastard…"

"It's just us now, cutie," Gilbert drawled, leaning into Lovino's personal space once again. Lovino glowered warningly, but relaxed a little when Ludwig coughed awkwardly from across the table.

"Don't be rude, _bruder_…"

"Whatever, Lud," Gilbert grumbled, leaning back. "Way to spoil the moment… Anyway, I have today all planned out already, so go grab whatever the hell you like to carry around with you all day. And the swim trunks."

"Are we going to go swimming again?" Feliciano cried happily. Gilbert grinned.

"Not right away, short stuff. First we are going to find Francis and 'Tonio… and yes," he sighed theatrically when Ludwig opened his mouth anxiously. "You can stay home, joykill. I'm not in charge of _you _today."

"You're not in charge of me, either!" Lovino snapped, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I can take care of myself perfectly well, thank you."

Gilbert stared at him in disbelief. After a pregnant silence in which Lovino did nothing to take back his words, Gilbert shrugged and stood from the table. "Sure, kid. You stay here for a while, alright? Don't die on me. Mister Vargas is scary when he's angry. Come on, Feli!"

"Ve…" Feliciano looked to Lovino nervously. When the elder twin only rolled his eyes, he smiled hopefully and turned back to Gilbert. "Where are we going?"

"To Francis and Toni," Gilbert declared, draping his arm over the smaller boy's shoulders. He cast a wicked grin at Lovino. "For _reinforcements_."

Lovino paled. Gilbert and Feliciano disappeared without any more fuss, Feliciano's chattering following out the door. Ludwig gave a sympathetic look as he headed out the back door.

"You should, ah… probably hide. Or lock your bedroom door."

"Duly noted," Lovino growled. As the screen door creaked shut after the blond, he dropped his forehead onto the kitchen table with a dull _thump_.

* * *

><p>When he finally found the energy to drag himself out of the kitchen, he stumbled into the bathroom, digging his toothbrush out of his toiletry case so he could smear it with toothpaste. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth.<p>

His curl _was _mostly camouflaged by his unbrushed hair, he thought sourly. This way he wouldn't have to deal with nosy questions, or heaven forbid _people tugging on it_. It would stay nicely tangled with the rest of his hair and that would be that. But on the other hand, bed hair wasn't exactly attractive, and even if _he_ was willing to let it slide, Feliciano sure as hell wouldn't. Then he'd have to let the kid brush his hair or put up with whining and sulking for several days (_fucking lucky Feliciano, who got the curl that rested subtly against his neck like normal hair_). There was no easy way out. He glowered at the mirror as he spat out the toothpaste. Goddamn hair.

"Screw this," he growled to himself, grabbing the hairbrush to sloppily tame his tangled locks. He cringed every time the bristles snagged in a particularly knotted section. Eventually it was neat enough to pass as an attempt to make himself decent. His curl… was definitely not hard to find.

He was sorting through his favorite choices in profanity when a loud _crash _from the lower floor made him drop the hairbrush in surprise. He ignored the painfully loud clatter it made to listen carefully. There was a low murmur of voices- and shit, that was a girl's voice, wasn't it? He couldn't think of any good reasons a woman would be in the house if he didn't know about it. Gilbert had just left a moment ago, surely Antonio and Francis didn't live that nearby- and he hadn't said anything about inviting girls over- God, they couldn't have tracked him down that quickly, could they? Footsteps echoed up from the lower floor, and he trembled as he crept out of the bathroom, towards his bedroom. Maybe he could climb out the window. At least Feliciano was with Gilbert- why did he have to be so stubborn, if he wasn't here there wouldn't be anything to identify him with-

And fuck, these floorboards creaked something awful.

The _someone _downstairs paused in their search, and then the footsteps were hurrying towards the stairs. Lovino abandoned stealth to dive into his room, slamming the door shut behind him as he fumbled to set the lock.

But if that was who he thought it was, a lock wouldn't stop them. He looked around frantically. There was the window- already open, no screen between him and the air outside. He peered out nervously. It was an awfully far drop. The first floor must have higher ceilings than he thought it did. He crashed his head against the window frame painfully when the doorknob was rattled viciously. He threw himself into the closet, drawing the door shut behind himself as quietly as he could manage in his frantic state of mind. He pressed back against the wall and listened to his own breath tremble in and out of his mouth. The doorknob rattled again. He swallowed a whimper. They tried the doorknob a third time, and Lovino was baffled when it was followed up with words.

"Loviiiiinooooo, are you in there?" _Definitely _a girl. But she sounded peppy and just a touch whiny, not at all like she might hurt him if he responded. Well… appearances could be deceiving. There weren't any women aside from Pat who should know him by name, anyway! "Come on, I know I heard you come in here! Why are you hiding? Shit, if Gilbert's been telling you lies I'm going to _castrate _him!"

… wait, _what._

At that moment, there was the triumphant _click _of the doorknob giving in. Lovino held his breath as the footsteps meandered into the room, clearly in no hurry now that they had him cornered. Maybe they would think he really had climbed out the window. _Just this once, Lady Luck-_

The closet door swung open easily. Lovino stared up into the face of a pretty (albeit bemused) green-eyed brunette, one hand on her hip.

"Why are you hiding in a closet, kid? Has Gilbert been tormenting you that much?"

Lovino let out a choked sigh of relief, slumping back against the wall. He managed to move his head from side to side tiredly. The girl bent to take him by the elbows and drag him out into the room, clicking her tongue sympathetically until he was flopped down on his bed, she perched on the edge in an almost motherly fashion. He watched her warily, but she only smiled down at him.

"It's okay, sweetie, I know how overwhelming it is to deal with him. I don't blame you for hiding."

"Wasn't hiding from Gilbert," Lovino grumbled, burying his face in his pillow to hide the embarrassed flush that had snuck across his cheeks. The mattress frame creaked as the girl resettled herself next to him comfortably.

"What were you doing, then? Did you think I was a burglar?" she combed her fingers through a lock of her own hair, readjusted the flowers tucked behind her ear. Somehow, she radiated a reassuring amount of normalcy. Lovino found himself relaxing a little. He frowned at the thought.

"… Something like that," he admitted. His brow furrowed as he remembered to be irritated. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house, anyway?"

"I'm Elizaveta!" she beamed down at him. "I'm a Senior. Gilbert's classmate, you know? I heard Mister Vargas' grandsons had finally moved in, so I had to come meet you for myself! Is your brother home, too?"

"No," Lovino said curtly. "He and Gilbert ran off to find the bastard's friends…"

"Ooh, Antonio and Francis," Elizaveta nodded wisely. "Have you met them yet?"

"They took us out swimming the other day."

"Booooo," Elizaveta whined, stretching out alongside him. "So I guess my lecture on not letting Francis grope you is too late, huh…"

Lovino grimaced. After a moment of silence, he pushed himself back up into a sitting position. "How did you know my name?"

"Oh, Mister Vargas talks about you two all the time," Elizaveta laughed. "Always going on about how cute you were!"

"Tch." Lovino yanked the dresser drawers open and carelessly stuffed his shirts in. "Still doesn't really answer my question, though. How did you know which one I was? I could've been Feliciano."

"Mister Vargas told me this was _your _room, though," Elizaveta hummed. She glanced at the dresser as he struggled to shut it. "Do you want any help with that?"

"_No_," Lovino growled. She held up her hands in mock surrender. He dumped his pants in the next open drawer, then moved back up to the top and started unpacking his socks. He was reaching for his boxers when he paused and turned back to Elizaveta, eyes narrowed. "Why are you still here?"

"It wouldn't be very nice of me to leave some poor Junior alone in a house that Gilbert could invade at any second," Elizaveta reasoned. She flopped back on his bed and covered her eyes. "Don't worry, I won't look!"

Lovino scoffed. After a moment he tossed the last of his clothes into the drawer and slammed it shut, then moved on to his box of books. "You can look again, or whatever. Why didn't you knock? When you first came in."

"Mister Vargas really just lets his students come and go from his house as they please," she shrugged. "He was lonely, I guess. He really missed you two."

_Really missed _Feliciano_, more like_ was on the tip of Lovino's tongue, but he didn't feel like spilling his guts to a stranger. He grabbed his photo album and stuffed it onto the old bookshelf. "It's still fucking impolite."

"It's not nice to swear in front of a lady," Elizaveta laughed.

"Ladies don't break into people's houses," he retorted. She gasped dramatically.

"Are you insinuating that I'm not a lady?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that _hurts,_" she whimpered pathetically, big green eyes staring at him unwaveringly. Lovino felt mildly creeped out, but brushed the feeling off and finished stocking his bookshelf. As he moved on to the rest of the box, Elizaveta propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. "Hey, seriously though. Why were you hiding in the closet when I walked in?"

"… Why do you care?" Lovino grumbled evasively. Elizaveta stared in disbelief.

"Even if it was acceptable to answer questions with questions, that would still be rude."

"It's none of your damn business."

"But I want to know," she rolled off the bed, and crossed the room to stand by him as he sorted through his things. "You looked _terrified_. Did you really think I was a burglar or a murderer or something? Has it happened before?"

Lovino felt the heat rise to his cheeks- there was absolutely _no way _to get out of this that wasn't incredibly fucking embarrassing, was there? Elizaveta hummed sympathetically when he stayed silent.

"Oh, fine, never mind. We can talk about other things," she rolled off the bed and came to peer over his shoulder as he unloaded his junk into a chest on the other side of the room. "Tell, me, Lovino- do you like men?"

Gilbert had figured Lovino had run and hid as soon as they left, but there was so much profanity coming from the second floor of the house that he really couldn't be very far away.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Alright, I am a terrible authoress. Yes, you can all hit me over the head with blunt objects. I deserve it. I'm sorry for taking so long to finish this and then giving you _that_ but _finaaaaaals. _Also writer's block.

In other news, listening to the clean versions of songs on the radio where they just gave up and edited out the curse words is pretty funny. Also convenient for when I want to listen to music but don't want to constantly change it when the album ends.

I'll also be taking little one-shot requests, if anyone's interested in them! Just know that I only write Spain and Romano paired with each other, and I won't write smut. I'm open to pretty much anything else!

Reviews- comments, constructive criticism? Please? :D


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

This chapter is dedicated to Rom, who is apparently REALLY FUCKING PERSISTENT. I would've given up by then if I were you. CONGRATULATIONS ON HOWEVER YOU MAGICALLY PULLED THAT OFF.

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><p>"I understand and sympathize with you but there's no way in hell we're getting rid of her now."<p>

"Fuuuuuck," Lovino groaned, dropping his head to the table again. Gilbert eyed him with a shred of sympathy (_fucker wasn't wearing a shirt again. Lovino could only hope it wasn't a usual thing)_. After a moment he pulled out the chair next to the Italian and unceremoniously dropped into it. He ruffled Lovino's hair.

"Chin up, kid, Eliza's tolerable if you're careful with your words," he advised. "… Mostly. Unless she doesn't like you, but I don't think that's going to be a problem."

"_Really_," grumbled Lovino. He shifted to glare at Gilbert without moving his head off the table. "And how did you come to that conclusion, bastard?"

"Women and cute things are inseparable," Gilbert said firmly, nodding wisely. He gave Lovino a smirk. "And I hate to break it to you, _cutie, _but Eliza was going on about how adorable you and Feli are for a good five minutes straight there."

"Shut up," Lovino groaned, burying his head back in his arms. "Fuck. Why is it so fucking hot out?"

"It's summer, Lovi!" Feliciano laughed as he skipped into the room. "It's only as hot as it ever got back in the city."

"Yeah, but Jackson's apartment had air conditioning," Lovino muttered grumpily. Gilbert laughed, stretching lazily.

"Aww, you're such a city boy. C'mon, cutie, you'll feel better if you take off a few layers!"

"I've only got on one layer and _holy shit get away from me!"_ Lovino dove out of his seat as Gilbert dove towards him, and Feliciano let out a cry when the chair went crashing to the floor. Lovino scrambled for the kitchen's doorway only to collide with another warm body. He swore blindly as the other person laughed and held him at an arm's length, but faltered and scowled heavily when Antonio just grinned at him. Bastard.

"What's the rush, _amigo_? We're not going anywhere yet," the older boy chuckled, releasing Lovino to run a hand through his dark, curly locks. Lovino glanced at him, then scoffed and crossed his arms as he redirected his gaze.

"What's with you bastards and not wearing shirts, anyway?" he demanded- then yelped in surprise when Gilbert grabbed his waist from behind. "_Augh! BASTARD!_"

"Quick Toni, get his shirt while I've got him!"

"No! Let me go- _ah!_" A plethora of cursing found itself muffled along with Lovino's vision. He thrashed in a blind attempt to escape, but only managed to succeed once the shirt had been dragged, and Antonio gave him an amused (_fucking cocky_) smile. "Give my shirt back, you-!"

Feliciano interrupted him with laughter and a hug. "Come on, Lovi, just go along with it~!"

"Like fuck I will!" Lovino writhed in his brother's grip, glaring darkly at Antonio and Gilbert. "Give my shirt back, bastards!"

"Nope," Gilbert drawled. He snatched the shirt away from Antonio and twirled it lazily around his finger. "You need the vitamin D, cutie. Besides, you'll just take it off when we go swimming…"

Lovino sputtered angrily. "That's not the _point. _We're _not _swimming right now- dammit, I don't want to swim again _period_-"

"That's too bad, because we're not stopping until you can swim better than Francis and Liza," Gilbert scoffed. "Believe me, it won't be that much of an accomplishment."

"What say you, crazy-ass bastard?" Elizaveta sniffed angrily as she strode into the kitchen. Lovino stopped struggling and warily leaned back into Feliciano's embrace, because Elizaveta was beginning to seem less and less normal the more he got to know her and at least Feliciano made a good distraction every once in awhile. Fortunately, her attention was directed at Gilbert anyway. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with my swimming."

"You swim like a half-dead cat," he sniffed. Elizaveta made a noise that Lovino couldn't identify as anything less than dangerous (_but then he hadn't had many girl friends to judge from_), and before anyone else could interfere they were already bickering loudly. Lovino rolled his eyes and dropped his head back on Feli's shoulder. The younger twin hummed happily, squeezing Lovino a little bit tighter.

"Does your back hurt, _fratello_?" Feliciano whispered as discreetly as he could manage. Lovino shrugged awkwardly.

"Naw, it's fine," he murmured, shifting out of his brother's grip. Antonio glanced at them as he backed away from Gilbert and Elizaveta.

"Whatcha whispering about over here, _amigo_?"

"None of your business, bastard," Lovino grumbled. "And quit calling me your _amigo_. I'm not your friend."

"_Oyee_, that's mean," Antonio whined, stepping closer to them. "What should I call you then, _chico_?"

"I have a name dammit!"

"Oh, you want me to give you a nickname then?" Antonio laughed. "Hmm, let's see…"

"_No!"_

"Grandpa and I call him Lovi!" Feliciano chirped helpfully. Lovino whipped around, armed with a glare, but as he opened his mouth to complain, he found himself tugged backwards and hugged to a broad chest.

"Lovi it is, then!" Antonio laughed, nuzzling into Lovino's hair. The Italian yelped in distress. Feliciano watched in fascination as his face went almost entirely scarlet.

"Get off me, you perverted _bastard!"_

"What's going on over- ooh," Elizaveta smirked, turning away from Gilbert to give Lovino a smug glance. "I told you, honey."

"Shut the fuck up and get him off me!" Lovino cried, thrashing in Antonio's arms. The Spaniard whined and tightened his grip. Gilbert snickered.

"Have fun with that, cutie. Hey, where the fuck is Francis? He's the one bringing the food!"

"There's food in the fridge," Lovino growled. After another moment of struggle he found enough room to elbow Antonio in the gut. Antonio grumbled and shifted so the arm was trapped between them again. Lovino felt his cheeks burn (_anger, dammit. not embarrassment)_ when Feliciano gave him a giggle and a wink. Gilbert ignored the silent exchange.

"Well, yeah, but it's all moldy leftovers and… unidentifiable… stuff," he said, giving the fridge a wary look. "I hope you plan to change that because it sucks invading a house with no decent food."

"Gramps can cook," Lovino protested, his brow furrowing in confusion. "He always cooked when Feliciano and I were little…"

"Well, I don't know what's happened since then but it's fucking terrifying to watch," Gilbert shuddered. "Also, if we let Francis make the food he makes the desserts too."

Lovino let out an exasperated sigh, and even he couldn't tell whether it was directed at Gilbert, Antonio, or Feliciano. He finally gave up on escaping from Antonio and crossed his arms as best he could. "Why do we need food right now, anyway? We just had breakfast an hour ago!"

"We're going on a picnic," Gilbert grinned lazily. "And no, there's no way you're getting out of it. We're going to drag Luddy into it too so you definitely have to come."

"But-"

"Nope."

"Bastard."

* * *

><p>The lake was just as beautiful as it had been the previous day; the sunshine lit up the waves perfectly, and the quartz fragments in the sand glittered from any angle you looked. Lovino felt a little better having walked, rather than being stuck in someone's lap in the jeep. Even if it prolonged the minor suffering that was spending time with the trio of older boys.<p>

Feliciano cheered happily and dashed ahead, nearly tumbling down the embankment in his haste to reach the water's edge. Lovino scoffed, shifting the picnic basket in his arms. "Little moron…"

"Geez, Vargas, that almost sounded affectionate," Gilbert marveled. He smirked down at the younger boy. "Should I be paying closer attention when you insult me?"

"_Bastard_," Lovino spat. Gilbert's smirk slipped into a sulking frown.

"_That _just sounded like an insult…"

"You deserve no better," Elizaveta declared, carefully taking the picnic basket from Lovino. "Hey, go run around with your brother! Have _fun!_"

"I'll try to have fun when you give my shirt back," Lovino grumbled. Antonio tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Sorry, Lovi. I guess I _forgot _it back at your house…"

"You did it on purpose, perverted bastard," Lovino accused, and Antonio hummed happily.

"Maybe."

"Come on, _chatton, _let's just have a good time," Francis cooed, reaching for Lovino's arm. The Italian ducked out of the way-

"_Shitfuck-"_

-and tumbled straight down the hill. Feliciano shrieked as Lovino crashed into the back of his knees, and they both fell to the water's edge. The older teenagers dashed over to them. Lovino blinked, disoriented, when a blurred Elizaveta appeared in his vision, frantically brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Are you alright, Lovino?" she fretted. He murmured something like a reassurance, sitting up. _Fuck_. The world was still a little wobbly at the edges. Elizaveta pet his hair soothingly when he swayed dizzily.

"Look at what you did, Francis!" she scolded, looking up to glare at the Frenchman. He spluttered helplessly.

"I fail to see how this is my fault, _cher!"_

Elizaveta sniffed daintily and helped Lovino to his feet. "Are you alright now, sweetie?"

"M'fine," he grunted, then tensed. "Feli?"

"Ve~ I'm fine Lovi, don't worry about me!" the younger twin beamed and reached up. Lovino grudgingly bent over to give him a hug. He couldn't see his brother's face, but he heard the happy sigh as the brunet burrowed into the crook of his neck. At a sudden flash from behind them, Lovino jumped, then slowly turned to glare. Elizaveta lowered her camera innocently, but he could see the mischievous spark in her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't worry, kid, she takes pictures of _everything_," Gilbert assured him. Lovino glared at both of them suspiciously. Antonio laughed, crouching next to Ludwig and the picnic basket as he beckoned to Lovino.

"Just ignore them and have some food, _chico_."

"Whatever, bastard," the Italian grumbled, but he settled on the ground anyway and took the plate of food Antonio offered him. He glowered at it in dismay. "Looks an awful lot like _take out _to me."

"Well, Gilbert didn't exactly give me a lot of time to prepare food," Francis said defensively. "I did what I could."

"What you could looks like shit," Lovino shot back, then yelped when Francis lunged. "Fuck okay I take it back get away from me!"

"Don't beat up juniors, Francis, they don't know any better," Gilbert laughed, dragging Lovino out of the line of fire.

"Why does everyone keep assuming we're juniors?" Lovino snapped in exasperation. After a moment of silence, Ludwig gruffly volunteered,

"Mister Vargas always said you were in my year."

"I am, veh!" Feliciano laughed, leaning over to give Ludwig a hug. "And Lovi's my twin, but he's skipping a year."

"No way," Gilbert deadpanned. "There's no way- You are _not _that smart."

"No!" Elizaveta cried in dismay. She threw her arms around Lovino. "Dammit, I was looking forward to you being a junior!"

"… What happens to the juniors?" Lovino asked warily, glancing at Feliciano. Francis chuckled.

"If you're really a senior, it should not concern you, _non?"_

"Lovi, I'm scared now…"

"Don't worry," Lovino grumbled, holding his arms out for his younger twin to snuggle into. "I'll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Whoop whoop! Summer vacation!

Still taking one-shot requests of almost any kind, as well as plot and pairing suggestions for Changes. Please don't be afraid to speak up, guys!

Please review, guys. I'm not just writing this story for myself and I really do want to see what other people think. Even if you're determined that my story is absolute shit, please tell me what I can do to improve!

Also, the next chapter won't be out for... at least a week, unless I can get it out before noon tomorrow. :/ I'm leaving on a week-long trip with my classmates, so I won't be around to work on it.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the characters involved. I do, however, own the iPod touch this is being slowly, painfully typed up on.

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><p>"That's so cute!" Elizaveta squealed in delight, diving for her camera again. Lovino untangled himself from his brother hurriedly and scrambled backwards. Antonio chuckled as they collided.<p>

"Careful, Lovi," he cooed, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. "You're more likely to hurt yourself than get hurt by Eliza!"

"Nobody asked for your opinion, bastard," Lovino growled. He swore at the telltale flash of the camera. "Stop taking pictures of me! Dammit, why won't you bother Feliciano instead?"

"Why can't we bother you, cutie?" Gilbert drawled. "Oi, Toni, quit strangling the poor kid."

"He could get away if he really wanted to," Antonio said smugly, and Lovino felt heat flood to his cheeks. That wasn't true, dammit! Antonio was just stronger than he realized! It definitely wasn't because he seemed like the safest of the perverts or anything!

Unfortunately, his eloquent "like Hell, bastard, let me go!" was easily drowned out as Francis and Elizaveta turned to fawn over Feli. Lovino relaxed a little in relief. This was much more normal... Although typically there wasn't anyone all over him from behind-

"Ve~ but you should all be paying attention to Lovi, too. Right, fratello?"

Lovino stared in horror when his brother gave him a proud smile. Since when had he handled the spotlight well? Since when was everyone constantly giving him chances in the spotlight, when Feli was right there? He didn't want attention, dammit! He was fine being Feli's shadow!

He'd said as much to Jacob, once. The tall blond boy had only laughed and ruffled his hair- said someday there'd be someone he wanted to impress, be it romancing or business, and then he'd understand why it was so important to stand out and be your own person.

But he did stand out. The standoffish, rude boy who looked just like Feli, but without the constant, charming smile- Hell, no one at school had a problem identifying him. There was probably a deeper meaning to Jacob's words that he didn't understand, he thought sullenly. Don't know, don't care- he knew how to charm his way through a business operation (if Pat had taught him anything, it was how easily a pretty girl can be manipulated with the right kind of smile) and as for love... When would he ever find it? No, the ladies were Feli's department, and no he didn't bat for the other team. He was perfectly straight, goddammit. He just couldn't imagine himself in any sort of lasting relationship.

No matter what Feli or Jacob said.

"He's too busy sulking to be any fun," Gilbert grumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Look at him."

"Lovi's not sulking, he's always like that," Feliciano laughed. "Come on Lovi! Let's go swimming now!"

Antonio shifted behind him, and Lovino frantically realized that the older boy was probably going to drag him into the water with the others. "I-isn't it bad to swim right after you eat? Cramps or some shit like that?"

"Whatever, cutie, we won't let you drown," Gilbert snickered. Ludwig glanced at Lovino sympathetically before quietly volunteering,

"We didn't bring any swim trunks or towels, _bruder."_

Gilbert turned around to glare at him as Lovino exhaled in relief, taking a moment to elbow Antonio in the gut. The older boy yelped. "Lemme go, moron, haven't you ever heard of personal space?"

Antonio hesitated, then squeezed tighter and pressed a smile against the back of his shoulder. "I like hugging people. Don't you like hugs, Lovi?"

"No I do not- and stop calling me that!" Lovino scowled, trying to elbow him again. Antonio's hand shot over and caught him at the last second. Elizaveta lowered her camera in surprise.

"You don't like hugs? Really? Mister Vargas has always seemed like a really touchy-feely kind of guy," she hummed thoughtfully, turning to the youngest Vargas. "Hey, Feli, do you like hugs?"

"I do!" Feliciano beamed. "Hugs are safe and warm and happy and great!"

Everyone else turned to Lovino expectantly. He flushed scarlet. "_Ch-che cosa, bastardi? _There's nothing weird about liking your personal space! I just don't like hugs, dammit!"

Antonio whined pitifully from behind him. Lovino huffed angrily. "That includes you, bastard!"

"_Nous regrettons, cher,_" Francis interrupted, his voice soothing. "_Calmer._ We're simply... curious, since it appears the rest of your family likes hugs."

Lovino wriggled in Antonio's grip enough to cross his arms stubbornly. "I've never liked hugs, pervert. Ask Gramps if you don't believe me."

"But Lovi, you let me hug you right?" Feliciano leaned towards him with wide, hopeful brown eyes. "You let me hug you after Pat took us! And you let Jacob hug you sometimes, too."

"I'm sorry to interrupt this touching conversation but who the hell is Pat?" Gilbert asked, a bit of exasperation leaking into his tone. Feliciano laughed sheepishly.

"She was, um... kind of our foster _mamma_," he said, giving Lovino a hopeful smile. The older Italian groaned.

"That's bullshit, Feliciano. We've been over this."

"Veee- I'm sorry Lovi but I didn't know about it before and it was all really sudden, especially with what happened to Mr. Brule and-"

"Quit adding names we don't know to the conversation!" Gilbert snapped grumpily. Feliciano whimpered apologetically. What a little suck up, Lovino thought dryly.

"Pat Jackson was the mafioso who kidnapped us," he deadpanned. Immediately, he had everyone's attention- Ludwig choked a little on his bite of sandwich.

"You were kidnapped by the _mafia?_" Francis said, disbelief lacing his voice. "That's... even Gilbert has never tried to come up with an explanation like that."

Lovino couldn't even tell whether his cheeks were heating again because he was angry or embarrassed. It _felt_ a shitload similar to anger. "Fucking sorry to hear that. Would you prefer I lied instead? I'm sure I could come up with some suitable bullshit."

"Lovi, Lovi calm down," Feliciano fretted, leaning over to grab Lovino's hand in a motion that was probably supposed to be reassuring. "They don't know, _sì?_"

"Keep going, Lovino," Elizaveta encouraged. She settled down beside Antonio. "Just tell us the way you know it."

"It's not that interesting," Lovino muttered. All the attention on him, coupled with the hug that Antonio still hadn't got around to releasing him from, was starting to feel awkward and overwhelming. "Right before we were supposed to move, Gramps was witness to a crime executed by the local mafia, and he testified against them in court... Pat said they meant to just kill him, but he left for the new house a day before us so they decided to just kidnap us instead."

Gilbert eyed him skeptically, then turned to the younger Italian. "Is this all true, Feli?"

"I- I don't-" Feliciano whimpered again, squeezing Lovino's hand more tightly. Lovino growled angrily.

"He doesn't have a fucking clue. The whole deal left him so traumatized that he doesn't remember anything before we moved in with Pat."

"Then why do you remember?" Gilbert challenged. Lovino felt his chest tighten angrily. He didn't like to talk about this in the first place, why couldn't they just accept that this was the truth and move on?

"Why the hell should I know, dammit? God, do you have any idea what it's like knowing exactly what you would need to do to save your family but not being able to do it without someone waving a gun at you? I fucking wish _I'd_ forgotten, too!" he snarled, his voice gaining volume. "Do you think it's any fun being raised by someone who monitors your every move and threatens to shoot everyone you've ever given a shit about?"

Gilbert threw his hands up in exasperation. "So tell the police, dumbass!"

"It took my psychiatrist getting _shot_ to get an audience with them that Pat couldn't interrupt!" Lovino yelled.

The group went dead silent.

Lovino was trembling with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. God he didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to talk about it ever again, until he was out of college and he'd started a life for himself and he didn't look over his shoulder at every sudden noise. He didn't want to talk about this until Pat's threats stopped echoing through his head when he was nervous. He didn't want to talk about this until he'd cleansed his brain of the image of Brule sprawled over his desk, blood dripping onto the floor-

Shit, now he was crying. And was why he didn't like people, Lovino thought miserably, using his free hand to rub away the saltwater tracking down his cheeks. So nosy and stupid. Where was Jacob to reaffirm his faith in humanity, right when he really needed it? Stupid new neighbors. Classmates. Whatever. He turned a glower back to the group, blinking in surprise at the sympathy he saw in their eyes. Antonio had loosened his grip just a bit- it felt a little less restraining and a little more comforting... Shit shit shit no. Bad. It didn't matter, he was just a pervert invading his personal space. No lowering your guard, moron, we all know how that turns out...

Elizaveta chose that moment to unexpectedly lean over and sneak her arms into the embrace, giving Lovino a quick kiss on the cheek. Lovino spluttered indignantly, but any protests he had were interrupted as Feliciano wriggled his way into the hug from his other side. Soon, everyone but Ludwig had joined in the make-shift group hug. Lovino felt like his face was nearly glowing with the embarrassed heat he could feel in his cheeks. "Wh-what the fuck are you guys doing? I don't want pity, dammit!"

"It's not pity, it's what friends do for each other," Gilbert chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry for not believin' you, kid..."

"Don't call me a kid, bastard! Since when are you my friends, anyway?" Lovino squirmed as most of the older teenagers backed out of the embrace. Antonio and Feliciano held tight.

"If you're going into Senior year we'll be your classmates, Lovi," the Spaniard hummed happily, resting his chin on Lovino's shoulder. Lovino tried to jerk away. "You're stuck with us... especially Gilbert, since he's your neighbor, too. And if you're stuck with Gilbert-"

"You're stuck with the whole trio!" Francis finished, chuckling. "Don't worry, _mon cher, _we'll take _excellent _care of you..."

"That's what scares me," Lovino grumbled. Feliciano giggled, nuzzling into his brother.

"We'll have lots of fun and people to take care of us, Lovi!" he beamed. "It'll be like having... Four or five Jacobs!"

Lovino felt obliged to be insulted in Jacob's place- the college student was nothing like these morons. For one, he respected other people's personal space... "Hey, Spanish bastard, get off me."

"Don't be so mean Lovi," Antonio sighed dramatically, but his arms finally fell away and Lovino scrambled out of his lap, relishing in the cool breeze that blew over his sides once again. "_Oye, _Gil, do we really have to walk all the way back for our swimming gear?"

"No," Gilbert snickered. He winked at the Vargas twins' confused expressions. "We'll just swim with all our clothes on, and let the sun dry us out when we get home."

Feliciano cried "That sounds like fun!" as Lovino bluntly countered "That is bullshit."

"No go, cutie? Whatever, you'll have fun once we throw you in-" Lovino's eyes widened in horror, and Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "I'm kidding you, Vargas. Gullible, much?"

"Leave me alone," Lovino mumbled halfheartedly, standing to brush himself off. "I'm going back to the house now whether you like it or not, bastard."

"No you're not," Elizaveta cooed. Lovino yelped as her arms wound around his knees. "You don't have to swim but you don't get to ditch us~... Just sit on the bank with me!"

"Why aren't you swimming, _cher _Eliza?" Francis sighed dramatically. "Surely you must help me prove Gilbert wrong with our swimming expertise..."

"_Bocsánat, a barátom, _but I am not swimming in a skirt around perverted, hormonal boys such as yourself," Elizaveta drawled. Lovino attempted to cover his smile with a pathetic cough, raising his hand to his mouth when it failed and Feliciano's eyes lit up.

"Aw, Lovi, don't hide your smile! I never get to see it when you're happy and Jacob won't give me the photos..."

Gilbert dove to grab Lovino's wrist, but the smile had already been replaced with a more customary embarrassed scowl. "Dammit! Come on, it's so lame to hide it when you're having fun. _Not _awesome at all, cutie."

"Don't see why you creepers should be staring at my face anyway," Lovino muttered, willing away the pink tint that was left from the group hug as it tried to return. Elizaveta dragged him down to sit beside her, beaming.

"I don't see why not- you and your brother are _so _adorable!" she gushed. Lovino ducked away when she tried to hug him. "Just look at you!"

"Look at Feli, there's no difference and he doesn't care!"

Everyone turned to stare at Feliciano purposefully. He smiled brightly even as Gilbert shrugged. "Feliciano's smiling, it changes the entire atmosphere of his face..."

"But if they're twins, won't Felicianito's smile and Lovi's smile look exactly the same?" Antonio leaned closer to Lovino, as though he could provide an answer. Lovino leaned further away. Feliciano shook his head.

"Jacob always said that Lovi's smile was different."

"Huh. What about your grandfather? He ever seen a difference?" Gilbert stretched lazily. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Our old man's never seen me smile, 's far as I know."

Francis gaped. "You would not smile for your own grandfather, _cher?_ Why not?"

"Why would I?" Lovino argued. His arms settled into their stubborn cross again. Ludwig sighed, tossing his shirt to the ground as he stood.

"Feliciano, would you like to continue your swimming lessons?"

"_Sì _Luddy!" Feliciano laughed, scrambling to his feet. He dashed ahead only to hesitate at the water's edge. "Um... will this be a lot harder with my normal shorts on?"

Ludwig opened his mouth- presumably to respond in the negative- but Gilbert shoved him out of the way. "Ah, just strip down to your boxers. Less cloths to get wet, y'know?"

"Pervert!" Lovino cried defensively, scrambling to put himself between Gilbert and Feliciano. Like hell the pervert was going to get his little brother to take off even more of his clothes! "Don't even think about it, Feli!"

"But Lovi," Feliciano laughed. "Loviii- it doesn't matter that much, _sì?_ We're all boys- well everyone that will be in the water anyway," he amended with an apologetic glance at Elizaveta.

Lovino rolled his eyes and bit back the _idiot, you came out of the closet to me last Christmas_ that threatened to escape. Feliciano could damn well explain this one himself. "Whatever, idiot. It won't be my fault when you get molested."

"If you join us you can be by his side keeping watch the entire time," Francis suggested innocently. Lovino scoffed, opening his mouth to respond only to be cut off by Eliza.

"Why must you do this to me, Francis?" she put a hand over her heart dramatically. "Is it so horrible that I should have company, too?"

Francis pouted. "But I found him first..."

"What am I, a fucking stray dog?"

* * *

><p>Lovino managed to carefully stay by Elizaveta's side for the day's lake experience. Gilbert sulked, but hell if he cared! No,the crazy albino could suffer for all it mattered to him. Elizaveta was a good conversational companion- she kept him distracted all afternoon with lazy, meaningless chatter about the town and its inhabitants, many of whom would be his new classmates. When the older trio finally got bored with swimming, she was still going strong.<p>

"... Oh, you've met Mrs. Karpusi then? Her son is in our year. Good guy, although he's asleep so often you might have trouble getting to know him. Really adores cats, too..."

"You've met Mrs. Karpusi?" Antonio asked as he waded onto shore, shaking water out of his dark, curly hair. Lovino leaned away from the flying droplets distastefully.

"She was our real estate agent when we were shopping for the house...I doubt she really remembers me," he muttered. He tried to edge away when Antonio flopped down beside him, but the older boy lazily threw an arm around his shoulders to trap him.

"Who could forget a pain in the ass like _you_?" Gilbert teased from the water's edge. Lovino stuck his tongue out childishly. Elizaveta giggled. "No, but really, cutie- you seem pretty unforgettable."

"Hnn. Whatever," Lovino mumbled, a slight tint to his cheeks from the almost-compliment. _Was_ it a compliment? It didn't _really_ seem like it... There were more pressing matters at hand. "Oi, bastard, you're getting me all wet."

"You'll dry out in the sun," Antonio replied absentmindedly, releasing him all the same. "Tomorrow we're definitely getting back to your lessons, though, okay?"

Lovino shrugged, somewhat sulkily. He yelped when a smaller body threw itself over his, effectively making him more wet in a second than Antonio had made him in a minute. "_Hnk!_ The hell, Feli? I told you to stop doing that!"

"But _Lovi_-"

"No _buts!_ You're _crushing _me!"

Feliciano pouted, rolling to the side so his arms still looped around Lovino's waist. "Is this good, _fratello?_"

"... Fine," Lovino grumbled. He glanced down at his jeans. "Thanks, Feli, now I'm almost as wet as you are."

"It's so hot out, doesn't a little cool water make you feel better?" Feliciano giggled, squeezing his brother's waist gently. Lovino squirmed uncomfortably.

"_No."_

In truth, the cool water did feel kind of nice on his skin- but all the physical contact that was being involved in getting it made him nervous. He was perfectly fine with just taking a cold shower when he got home, dammit.

"Hey, hey, Lovino," Gilbert finally hauled himself (and an unfortunate Ludwig) out of the water, gesturing to the Italian's hair. "What's up with that... curl-thing?"

_Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit._

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Lovino muttered, but dammit if he wasn't lying through his teeth. Feliciano released him nervously, moving slightly away from him brother so they could both flee at a moment's notice, _without_ freeing themselves from a tangle of limbs first. Antonio hummed thoughtfully.

"Really? I see it too, it's right here-" oh fucking shit he was _reaching for it, _he was _reaching for the curl_ and Lovino yelped, scrambling out of the way.

"Okay okay I know where it is!_ Don't touch that!_"

Antonio and Gilbert stared at him in confusion; from behind him, he could hear the subtle _click _of Elizaveta's camera. He cast a glare at her over his shoulder. She smiled innocently.

"Fuck this," he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, Feli, let's... let's go back to the house."

"Ve~," Feliciano still seemed a bit nervous, but not nervous enough to ditch his new friends. "I don't know, Lovi, we could still have a lot of fun..."

Screw morals. Bribery always worked. "We can make pasta if you want."

"PASTA!" Feliciano shot up excitedly, dragging Lovino to his feet as well. "Come on _fratello, _we're gonna make pasta!"

Gilbert spluttered. "Wh- Feli, I'm supposed to be watching you tw-"

"Sorry Gil! This is very very important! Pasta is the _most _important!"

Underneath his breath, Lovino added, "And gelato, and puppies and kittens, and _calcio_, and pretty girls..."

"Ve~ pasta is more important than all of those Lovi," Feliciano frowned, then amended. "Maybe not _calcio..._"

"Pardon my ignorance, _mes cheries,_" Francis leaned against Gilbert with a raised eyebrow. "But just what is this... ah, _calcio?"_

"Football," Lovino said, then backtracked at the horrified expression on Elizaveta's face. "Not _American _football, dammit! Soccer or whatever..."

"You two play _fußball?_" Ludwig asked gruffly, finally managing to squirm out of Gilbert's grip. Feliciano beamed.

"_Sì!_ I only play it sometimes but Lovi likes it a lot... Jacob taught you, right Lovi?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lovino grimaced. "C'mon Feli, that pasta isn't making itself..."

"Oh! The pasta!" Feliciano gasped, seizing his brother's wrist again to pull him along. "It was nice meeting you Eliza! See you later Gil~ and Luddy!"

Gilbert's protests faded into the distance as Feliciano set off at a run that only a fleeing Italian could manage.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> See that disclaimer at the top, where it mentions my iPod? That is kind of true but kind of not true. I did start typing this and type some sections of it on my iPod, but the bulk of it was typed on my family's laptop. My parents are taking out the window right next to my desk, so my computer is unavailable right now. I don't think this should have _too _much of an effect on my updates, but we'll see.

I'm still open to one/two-shot requests, as well as story suggestions for Changes! Because no one has suggested any pairings for the other characters yet, here are some to decide between.

PruCan or PruHun?

FrUK or USUK? (If there is no FrUK, France will probably end up single.)

_calcio_ (Italian)and _fußball _(German)- soccer

_Bocsánat, a barátom _(Hungarian)- Apologies, my friend

_Nous regrettons, cher _(French)- We're sorry, dear

_Calmer _(French)- Calm down

Everything but the French was done with Google translate, so please drop me a message if you think there's a better way to say something!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters involved.

I've made a poll for the possible pairings, for people who don't feel like reviewing just to vote! You can make three choices. Please vote~ And tell me if there's a pairing you don't already see that you'd like to have included! In particular, if anyone is looking for Italy or Germany pairings outside of Gerita, I'd love to know.

Oh, and if there are like... no votes on the poll, then I'll go by the reviews, which are overwhelmingly PruCan and USUK as far as I can tell.

* * *

><p>Monday evening brought an air of satisfaction for Lovino. An entire week in the "new" house, surrounded by a strange town and stranger neighbors, and nobody had died or been arrested yet. Better yet, he and Feli hadn't <em>truly <em>been molested yet (although he remained firm in the opinion that there had been several close calls, and it depended on what your definition of _molestation _was). The only thing that could spoil his good mood was revealed to him at dinner, followed by spluttering and accusations and stern words from his grandfather. Jacob- who had called to check in on him- was only partially sympathetic.

"You had to know it was coming. I mean, summer vacation never lasts forever."

"Yeah, well, the crazy old bastard could've given us some warning for exactly _when_ summer vacation ended," Lovino grumbled, fidgeting with the phone's cord. "I bet _your_ parents never let you get settled in and used to the way things were going and then go 'oh, by the way, it's super late notice and you don't have anything prepared at all, but you start at your new school tomorrow morning'."

"My parents were hardly shining examples. Maybe he's already got stuff set aside for you," Jacob suggested, and Lovino could hear the rustling of papers in the background. He realized with a jolt of surprise that Jacob was calling him from the station. "He _is _the principle, no?"

"Quit siding with him, jerk."

"Sorry, sorry," the older boy said easily. "I'm sure you'll sort it out. You're a smart kid."

"Che..."

"I've gotta get back to work now, the chief is giving me the look," Jacob chuckled. "Talk to ya later, kiddo."

"Bye, Jake."

He'd barely set the phone back into its cradle when a pair of hands playfully blocked his vision, accompanied by a childish giggle. Lovino rolled his eyes and sat calmly. "What are you doing, Feliciano?"

"You're no fun Lovi," the younger Italian sighed, flopping down next to his brother on the couch. "Who were you talking to? Did 'Tonio want you to remind him return your clothes tomorrow morning?"

"No..." Lovino frowned thoughtfully at the reminder. The Spaniard _did _still have his clothes from the first day in town. "It was Jacob."

"Ve..." Feliciano's lips twitched a little, a sadder version of his usual bubbly smile.

"What's with that look?" Lovino protested, glaring at Feliciano. "You _like_ Jacob, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Lovi," Feliciano soothed. "But... Never mind. I had something I wanted to ask you!"

He was all carefree smiles and giggles again. Lovino couldn't help but feel a little unsettled by the mood swing. "_Che cos'è?_"

"You know how at dinner, Grandpa was tellling me about... what the family was like before Pat?" Feliciano wriggled just a bit closer to Lovino. The elder shrugged.

"Sure. I wasn't paying that much attention. What about it?"

"Well he said he used to tell us stories when he tucked us in at night..." Feliciano's smile grew wider, and Lovino felt his eyes widen in horror. He _wouldn't_- "And Pat would never do that for us, so I thought maybe you might-"

"_When hell freezes over!_"

"Come on Lovi," Feliciano laughed, nudging Lovino with his shoulder. "Pleeease? There are still some Italian storybooks in my room, please please please..."

"No! Fuck, Feli, we're _sixteen!_"

"_So?_"

_What the fuck, he was going to start applying for __**colleges **__any day now and his twin brother wanted to be read fairytales before bed-_

"It'll be fun!"

"No it _won't!_" Lovino protested. He tried to climb over Feliciano and escape, but his twin seized the hem of his shirt. "Besides, with my luck the other seniors will show up in the middle of it!"

"You could read to them too," Feliciano grinned. His smile faltered at Lovino's expression. "I don't understand, Lovi, why is this making you so upset?"

"Look, I don't..." Lovino massaged his temples. "You need to grow up _someday, _Feliciano."

Feliciano's lip jutted out in a pout. "Don't wanna."

"Tough shit!" Lovino crossed his arms, frowning, but his resolve wavered when Feliciano's lip began to tremble. Little crybaby. "Oh, for... Fine. You know what? We can take out that old book of Italian lullabies or whatever. But only this _once._"

"_Yes!_" Feliciano cheered, throwing his arms around Lovino's neck to plant a kiss on his cheek. "_Grazie fratello!_"

"Dumbass," Lovino mumbled halfheartedly. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

><p><em>The Bad Touch Trio stayed at the Beilschmidt household on Monday night; Alfner had very sternly kept them away from the Vargas property throughout the afternoon, claiming the younger boys deserved a break from their antics, and proceeded to send them to Gilbert's room directly after dinner, on the premise that it was a school night. Gilbert's ranting kept the night far from silent, but Antonio and Francis swore up and down that if you listened hard during some of the rare moments of silence, a quiet, uncertain voice and a more confident companion voice drifted from the house next door...<em>

* * *

><p>Lovino woke up the next morning because someone was hitting him in the face with a pillow.<p>

It took him a minute to process this fact (_he was not a morning person by anybody's standards_), but as soon as he did he grabbed the pillow and yanked it out of the hands of a grinning Elizaveta.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"Me? I don't have a problem. _You_ didn't set your alarm clock, though," she chirped, half skipping over to his dresser to look through his shirts. "Hmm... you have really boring clothes, you know that?"

"Quit going through my stuff!" Lovino yelped, scrambling out of bed. Elizaveta laughed and held up a dark blue shirt covered in a logo.

"Oh my God, you have a _pokémon _shirt! That is _so _adorable!"

"What- I do _not_," Lovino spluttered. He snatched the shirt away and glared at it as though it had personally offended him. "Goddamn Feliciano putting his shirts in my laundry..."

"Wear it," Elizaveta insisted, grinning broadly. "You have to wear it, that is _so _cute..."

"No," Lovino growled. He dug through his drawer and pulled out a plain red shirt. "Now get out so I can change."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"No. Never. Get out."

"You're no fun..."

Lovino shoved her out of the room without responding, locking the door as soon as she was in the hallway. He dropped his pajama shirt to the floor lazily and slid the red shirt over his head, then pulled on the nearest pair of jeans. He ducked into the bathroom without so much as a glance to Elizaveta, but she leaned against the doorframe anyway. She watched in fascination as he brushed his hair.

"What _is _that curly hair?" she asked. He swore under his breath, tossing the hairbrush back into the nearby basket.

"Nothing important."

"Why won't you tell me the easy way?" Elizaveta complained. "You know I'll find out eventually, whether you like it or not."

"No, you won't," Lovino growled, pushing her out of the way as he dragged himself out of the bathroom and tried not to trip on his way down the stairs. "_Oi_, Feli! What's for breakfast?"

Feliciano paused in his humming and cooking to beam at his older brother. "Ve~ I'm making omelets! You like tomato omelet, _sì_?"

"Che... whatever," Lovino muttered. He dropped into the nearest chair to lay his head on the table. Feliciano seemed to realize this was the closest to an approval that he was going to get, and turned back to the stove contently as Lovino tried to steal some extra moments of sleep. He groaned miserably when Elizaveta shook his shoulder. "Come _on_... Just until breakfast is ready, _per favore..._"

"Let him nap, Liza," Feliciano said sympathetically. "Lovi and I didn't get to sleep till really late last night!"

"You seem fine," Elizaveta protested. After a heartbeat of thought, she raised an eyebrow. "What were you _doing_?"

"Oh! Grandpa was telling me about what we used to do as a family when I was little so I talked Lovi into s-"

"_Fratellino_," Lovino hissed, and Feliciano smiled nervously at the distinct warning in his voice.

"I-I mean... it wasn't that important, veh."

"Now I _really_ want to know," Elizaveta whined (_she probably thought it was something perverted now, Lovino thought sourly. Whatever. It wasn't his problem_). Feliciano gave her an apologetic shrug. For a few minutes, the kitchen was silent save for the hiss of the fire and the clatter of kitchenware. Feliciano hesitated as he was divinding the omelets.

"You said you already ate, right, Liza?"

"Eh, yes... Although if one of you feels like sharing-"

Feliciano yelped out a "No I'm good sorry" just in time with Lovino's vicious "Go to Hell!" Elizaveta pouted. "I see how it is..."

"Feli eats a lot and I don't share my food with anyone but him," Lovino deadpanned. "Ever."

"He won't even share with Jacob!" Feliciano laughed, passing Lovino his plate. "It used to really bother him, ve~."

"Sharing is caring," Elizaveta said daintily, trying to reach for a corner of the egg concoction. Lovino moved his plate away with a glare.

"And I don't care about you."

"Hey! That's pretty mean."

"No, it's honest," Lovino assured her dryly. He dug his fork into the omelet and began to eat.

Elizaveta sighed longingly. "Is it as good as it looks?"

"Mm. More's the pity for you."

* * *

><p>The rest of breakfast was a quiet affair. The twins finished their omelets and brushed their teeth; as soon as they'd picked up their backpacks, they found themselves on the way out the door via Elizaveta's prodding. Feliciano paused uncertainly as they began to walk down the street.<p>

"Aren't we going to wait for Gil and Luddy...?"

"Believe me, once Gilbert's gotten together with his boys, they'll catch up and if you're sane you'll wish they didn't," Elizaveta said firmly, pulling him along. "Don't idle. If we move quickly we might escape- Gilbert won't leave for at least another ten minutes..."

"How long does it take to get to school on foot?" Lovino asked warily, jerking his hand away from Eliza and into his pocket. Maybe she was saner than the trio of older boys, but that wasn't exactly a high standard and he was getting increasingly suspicious that she was as perverted as the French bastard. She gave him a grimace.

"Thirty minutes, maybe a little more..."

"Shit," Lovino groaned. He mentally compared the impending walk with a ride in Francis' family jeep. On one hand he would be stuck in someone's lap, probably sexually harassed and possibly molested, but on the other hand he wouldn't be walking several miles at seven in the morning... Dammit, he was not considering this. He would _not_ sacrifice his body for the sake of laziness. He silently trudged along behind Elizabeta and Feliciano as they chatted about random things, only glancing up at the mention of his name. For the most part, he glanced at the houses around the neighborhood- they looked to be middle class, but he couldn't imagine what kind of middle class jobs you could find in such a small town and God it would be such a hassle to drive back to the city every morning... No wonder Leone had been pleased when they'd found a house so close to his new job. He collided with Elizaveta when she abruptly stopped.

"What the Hell?" he complained, staggering back. She clamped a hand over his mouth and looked around frantically. It was almost like she was trying to-

"Find cover! Quickly!"

"What's going on?" Feliciano whimpered as they dashed out of the street. Elizaveta shoved them behind someone's hedge, crouching beside them with an eye trained cautiously to the street. Lovino stiffened at the sound of a bike's brakes screeching, then sat bolt upright in surprise when the front door of the house they were in front of swung open. The boy who was holding the door looked as tired as Lovino felt, but he didn't seem surprised to see them there. There was something vaguely familiar about him...

"Elizaveta, what are you doing with the Vargas twins?"

Elizaveta swore, then cringed as someone on the street let out an enthusiastic cry of "A_ha!_ Over here, guys!"

"Thanks, Herakles. Now the Bad Touch Trio's got us cornered."

… Wait, the _what?_

"Sorry," he said, looking entirely unfazed. He gave the younger boys a sleepy smile. "Remember me?"

Lovino felt the gears in his brain slowly kick into motion. "... You're our old real-estate agent's son? Mrs. Karpusi?"

"Mhmm." Herakles stepped off the front porch and cast an unimpressed look at someone on the other side of the hedge. "Stay out of my yard, Gilbert."

"Dude, Eliza kidnapped my neighbors! You can't just let her keep them!"

"They don't seem very traumatized to me," Herakles hummed. "Are you traumatized, Feliciano?"

"Nope~," Feliciano chirped. Lovino heard Gilbert huff, and he jerked around in shock when the hedge above him rustled. Gilbert grinned down at him.

"What about you, cutie? Are _you _traumatized?"

_Yes, but it has less to do with Eliza "kidnapping" us and more to do with you stalking us here_.

"No more traumatized than I would have been if I'd had to go to school with you," Lovino retorted instead, crossing his arms defiantly. "Go away, bastard."

"Nope," Gilbert drawled, leaning further across the hedge. "By the way, Toni finally remembered to bring your clothes."

Herakles and Elizaveta turned to give him, respectively, disbelieving and manically delighted looks. Lovino spluttered indignantly, his face flushing scarlet. "_Not like that, God dammit!_"

"Then why does Antonio have your clothes...?" Herakles asked slowly. Lovino felt like his face was _burning._

"H-he lent me swim trunks on our first day in town, okay? I changed into them at his house and I forgot my clothes there afterwards!"

"Gilbert...?"

"He's telling the truth. Sadly."

Elizaveta looked incredibly disappointed. Herakles looked somewhat relieved.

"Can we backtrack for a minute here?" Lovino demanded. "What the Hell were you talking about when you mentioned the _Bad Touch Trio_?"

"Oh, that's what everyone's been calling Gilbert, Francis and Antonio since..." Elizaveta trailed off, and gave Herakles a confused grimace. "Help me out here, Herakles."

"... Fifth grade?" Herakles shrugged. "Maybe sixth..."

"It's just because we're awesome, cutie, don't think too hard about it," Gilbert snickered, then raised his voice. "Hey, pansies, over _here!_ God, you guys have no sense of direction."

"You're the one that always gets us lost, _bruder,_" Lovino heard Ludwig mumble from the street. Feliciano laughed and bounded out from behind the hedge to assault Ludwig with a hug, and Lovino reluctantly climbed out after him just as Antonio skidded to a stop. The Spaniard beamed at him.

"_Buenos dìas, _Lovi!"

"Morning, Spanish bastard."

"Hold on hold on-" Antonio dug through his bike basket, then tossed a bundle of clothing to Lovino. "There!"

"Thanks, I guess," Lovino grumbled, tucking the clothes into his backpack. "Alright, you gave my goddamn clothes back. Now leave."

"It'll take forever to get to school if you walk, _cher,_" Francis called. He leaned his bike against someone's fence lazily. "Don't you want a ride?"

"I don't see extra seats on those bikes," Elizaveta said stubbornly, tugging Lovino back towards herself. "You don't get to molest Mister Vargas' kids!"

"They can sit on the backs and hold onto our shoulders!" Gilbert protested. He held a hand out to Lovino. "Come on, cutie, you'll get to school _so _much faster..."

"It's not worth it, Lovino!" Elizaveta cried sharply. Lovino grimaced.

No. No, it was not worth it to get molested for the sake of time (_they still had like an hour before the doors even opened_). But if Feliciano was doing it- and he'd already planted himself on the back of Ludwig's bike, and showed no signs of moving- then he could fucking take one for the team and make sure Feliciano _wouldn't_ get molested.

Because that's the kind of shit big brothers put themselves through.

He looked at the trio- all of whom were staring at him expectantly- and sighed, feeling an irritated flush spread across his cheeks. There was really only one he could reasonably expect not to molest him. He carefully swung himself over the back of Antonio's bike, rolling his eyes at the squeal of delight he produced. "If I fall off, you won't live to see tomorrow, _capito_?"

"_Sì, sì_," Antonio chirped, waiting as Lovino put his feet on the pegs and tentatively put his hands the other boy's shoulders. "Hold on tight, Lovi! _Vamos!_"

The bike lurched forward, and Lovino yelped and tightened his grip. Gilbert laughed as they began speeding down the street, drowning out anxious cries from Elizaveta.

"Tighter, Vargas, we're going at a velocity of _awesome!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Was all that build-up just to get to school necessary? Probably not. Was I stalling so I could get more time to plot? … Maybe.

Story/character/pairing ideas? Tell me! I'd love to know!

I'm also considering starting another story (also Spamano but with strong tones of many other predetermined pairings, what can I say, it's my OTP). I've got a lot more thought out for that one, I think, but I might wait until we're farther along in Changes to start it. Opinions, anyone?

Reviews make me happy. So happy. You get virtual cookies and hugs for reviewing. And I'll possibly love you forever.

Till next time- this is Choc, over and out!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters involved.

I've pretty much decided on the future pairings now. Overwhelming vote for USUK, so that's definitely going in there. I'm going to try to write in a little Greece/Turkey as well.

Figuring out the pairings with Prussia was weird, because most of the PruCan votes were in the reviews but the PruHun votes appeared to be in the poll... In general, though, I think PruCan won, so that's what I'll probably use for this story.

(And sturmgalan- I'll try to write your France/Scotland, but there is a strong possibility for it to turn out awkwardly written. But I'll try!)

* * *

><p>"Lovi?"<p>

Lovino squeezed his eyes more tightly shut and clung harder. Somewhere nearby, he heard Gilbert snicker.

"Lovi, you can keep hugging me if you want, but we're here now."

Oh. That would explain why the motion sickness was wearing off some.

Lovino shoved himself away from Antonio and blearily waited for his vision to come back into focus; unfortunately, the first thing he saw was Antonio leaning _way too far _into his personal space, and he swore as he scrambled off the back of the bike.

"Damn bastard, don't get so close!"

Antonio appeared to ignore the comment, although his brow furrowed. "Are you alright, _amigo_? You look like you're going to be sick to your stomach."

"'M fine," Lovino growled (_and it was sort of true, the churning in his gut was calming down a little, kind of_). He watched the older trio park their bikes, then looked around with a frown. "Where's Feli?"

"He and Lutz went inside to start the grand tour," Gilbert said with a shrug, straightening from locking his bike. "Which is exactly why you needed to get here earlier, by the way. You're not going to have a very fun first day if you're running around lost between every class. Speaking of classes, let's go get your schedule!"

"What are you, my mother?" Lovino protested. He let Gilbert drag him across the pavement to the school's doors, however, giving his surroundings a tired glance. The school was mostly brick, with wide glass windows and a well-kept lawn. Same as every other goddamn school he'd ever seen ever, really, maybe a little bit smaller. Nothing special. But if Leone Vargas was in charge...

He couldn't take appearances for granted.

Gilbert let go of his wrist to dig through his bag, muttering profanity until he produced a keyring. Lovino raised an eyebrow as he unlocked the door.

"What idiot decided to let _you _have the keys to the school?"

"Don't talk about your grandfather that way," Gilbert shot back, grinning as he shoved the metal door in. "If he trusts me with _you_, it's hardly surprising that he'll trust me with the school."

"_I'm _not worth several million dollars," Lovino grumbled. He stumbled in after the albino when Francis gave him a light shove. "Oi, watch it!"

"You're right, _cher_," the Frenchman drawled. "You're not worth several million dollars. You're priceless."

Lovino scoffed, ignoring the way his cheeks tinted pink. "Don't hit on me, pervert."

"Ah, shy, are we?" Francis leaned into the Italian's personal space with a lewd grin. "Don't worry, you'll loosen up after you've gotten used to your new home~"

"Rapist!" Lovino spluttered, running after Gilbert. The older boy snickered.

"You're gonna have to get used to that kind of thing here," he told Lovino unsympathetically. "We have an awesome senior class- I mean, it's natural since _we're _part of it, but the rest of the grade ain't half bad."

"That's..." Lovino trailed off and shook his head in disgust instead. Words failed him. Antonio chuckled as he caught up.

"Don't worry, _amigo, _nobody will actually force you to do anything against your will."

"Except you three?" Lovino challenged. Gilbert _tsk_ed mockingly.

"We're just trying to help, cutie. Oh, here we are- secretary's office. S'where we're getting your schedule," he said cheerfully. Lovino frowned.

"The secretary shows up this early?"

"Of course not, the building's not even open yet."

Lovino stared as Gilbert whipped out the keyring again, flipping through them until he'd found the key he wanted. The doorknob clicked and gave easily, and the albino ducked inside. "Do you have a key to every room in the building?"

"None of the classrooms, unfortunately," Francis sighed, somewhat theatrically. "There was an... _incident _in the science labs in our freshman year, and Gilbert's _grand-père_ had those keys confiscated."

_Why am I not surprised_, Lovino thought. Gilbert came back out of the office, dutifully locking the door behind him as he waved around a pile of papers.

"Here's mine, cutie's, Toni's... Oh, Feli and Lutz's! Who wants to run these over to the juniors' wing?"

"I nominate Franny!" Antonio chirped. The Frenchman whined.

"How could you, _Antoine_?"

The Spaniard laughed easily. "_Felicianito _is adorable, but Gil and I need to show Lovi the ropes."

Lovino felt something inside him cringe at the obvious implications (_your brother's cute but you're so hopeless we can't stand to ditch you for him_), but he squashed it. He didn't give a shit what these people thought about him- he would take care of Feli for the rest of the year, and then he was off to college and he'd probably never have to see any of them again. Ever.

No matter what they said about being stuck with them, dammit.

Francis grumbled but snatched the papers anyway, trudging down the hall with an occasional sulky look over his shoulder. Gilbert tossed a sheet to Lovino.

"There's yours. What's yer homeroom?"

"Ah..." Lovino grimaced, squinting at the tiny print. "Spanish 5A..."

"Oh, really? I assist in that class!" Antonio beamed. Lovino felt his eye twitch.

"... Don't you have your own foreign language to take?"

Antonio shrugged. "They thought that since I'm already fluent in Spanish, I could use my free period to help other kids."

"That, and you nearly _failed _every other language you've ever tried to learn," Gilbert scoffed, patting his friend's shoulder condescendingly. "I guess faculty just took pity on him this year."

"Gil! That's not true," Antonio whined. "I did fine with... with..."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"... Latin! Yeah, I wasn't that bad in latin!"

"... Don't listen to him, cutie. Come on, let's go find your locker."

"Come on Gilbert, don't make me sound like a failure!"

"Really, bastard, he's doing a fine job all by himself."

"Loviii! Not you, too!"

* * *

><p>Much to Lovino's dismay, there were only two classes he had completely free of the obnoxious older trio; gym and history. It was just what happened in a small school, he supposed. That didn't really make it any better. The tour, at the very least, had not been as painful as it could've been, as when Francis returned Elizaveta and Herakles were right behind him.<p>

Lovino wasn't going to question the cat that followed them inside. He had better things to worry about. Like whether Leone had packed them lunches, because they hadn't grabbed any on their way out the door. Like Feliciano's well-being.

Like Spanish 5A.

The janitor had shown up twenty minutes into the tour (_when the school actually opened_), and Lovino had been ready to hold his tongue through a chewing-out, but the man had looked from the Bad Touch Trio to him then back to Gilbert and shaken his head with a strong tone of exasperation. "Which room do you need to be let into?"

And here they were. Lovino was not quite sure why so many people had joined them. A comparison of schedules (_and Gilbert really had taken the schedules of everyone who arrived early_) had revealed that no one else had Spanish first period. He supposed they just had nothing better to do than interrogate the new kid, even if they'd been doing just that for a week already- with the exception of Herakles, whom Lovino couldn't bring himself to truly dislike anyway. He was too calm.

"It's been a long time since I saw you," the Greek said thoughtfully. "Do you even remember that?"

"Not really," Lovino admitted- somewhat grudgingly, because he prided himself in his memory and here he couldn't remember the one thing he's asked. Herakles didn't seem disappointed or surprised, but nodded absentmindedly.

"My mother used to leave me with you and Feliciano while she showed Mister Vargas houses," he said, then chuckled. "You never liked any of them, though. Mister Vargas couldn't figure out what you were being so stubborn about."

Lovino felt his cheeks heat up a little at that. He remembered why he had been so picky about helping find the new house- they had cost more than Leone wanted to spend, and didn't give him enough office space for his work. He'd been a thoughtful brat, in a way, probably a lot more thoughtful than he was now. "Yeah, well, whatever. Do _you _actually remember that or did Gramps just tell everyone stories about us because he's a fucking pathetic, lonely old bastard?"

"A little of both, probably," Elizaveta laughed from her perch on the desk in front of Lovino. "I told you, didn't I, Mister Vargas told us about you two all the time!"

"Yeah, you sound like you were a lot more fun as a kid," Gilbert complained, and Lovino leaned out of the way when the albino tried to drape an arm across his shoulders. "What happened?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "I'm sure even _you _can figure this out, bastard, it's not that hard."

"I'm too lazy, just tell me."

The Italian only responded with an utterly exasperated look and turned to flick Antonio's forehead. "Hey, Spanish bastard. Who else is in this class?"

"Don't hit me for no reason," Antonio protested, pouting. "Eh... Vasco is still taking Spanish, I think, but that's all I'm sure about. My brother, you know? You've been borrowing his swim trunks."

"How the hell is your brother in the same grade as you? You're a twin?"

"Half brothers," Francis said simply. He hopped off the desk he'd been sitting on. "Through their father. If you don't mind too much, _mes chers_, I think I will go ahead and escort Elizaveta to the German room."

"Such a gentleman," Elizaveta drawled, sliding off her own desk. "I'll see you third hour, Lovino, try not to get molested until then. Come on, crazy bastard, you come too."

Gilbert waved back airily as she dragged him out of the room. "See you later, cutie!"

"Go to Hell," Lovino called back snappishly. Gilbert only laughed as he disappeared from sight. Herakles shook his head, an amused smile on his face, before nodding politely at Lovino and following them out. Antonio stretched, beaming.

"It's just us now, Lovi! What do you want to do?"

"Take a nap."

"Ah, but that's so boring."

"Do I really look like I give a flying fuck right now?" Lovino grumbled. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Elizaveta got us up really early to escape you bastards, and since that obviously didn't work out the least you can do is let me recover some goddamn sleep."

Antonio sighed dramatically, dropping into the desk in front of Lovino only to sit backwards, lazily leaning against the other's desk. "I guess since we've got so much time before class starts... I'll wake you up when it's almost time, okay?"

"Che, whatever," Lovino murmured. He folded his arms on the desk and burrowed into them. "Better not watch me sleep or whatever, perverted bastard..."

Antonio made a soft, injured noise in the back of his throat but at the same time he kind of sounded like he was laughing, damn him. At least he didn't try to start up another conversation. Soon, the only noises in the room were the occasional rustling of clothes, the birdsong outside, and the quiet, even sound of the boys' breathing. Lovino supposed he wouldn't mind more naps like that in the future, even when he wasn't so tired from waking up at a fucking indecent time of morning, and really this would be perfect except he was pretty sure Antonio was still staring at him, and even though that was really creepy it wasn't bothering him nearly as much as it should have and

* * *

><p>And the next time he had a coherent thought, it was "why the fucking fuck is there so much noise".<p>

"Ehh, Bella, I don't think Lovi wants to be woken up..."

"But Eliza said he's so cute, I want to meet him so badly!"

Lovino let out a protesting groan and burrowed further into his own arms. Unfortunately, a certain dumbass Spaniard thought took it as a sign that he was ready to join the waking world.

"Lovi? I'm sorry we woke you up! We've got ten minutes till class starts but Bella really really wanted to meet you."

Lovino lifted his head and glared blearily at Antonio, then winced at a high pitched squeal to his left and turned to give its maker an exasperated stare. The blonde beamed back at him.

"Lovi? I've heard so much about you! I'm Bella, by the way. You're so adorable!"

"Fucking... Don't call me Lovi," he growled, then guiltily softened his voice. "My name is Lovino."

"But you let Antonio call you that," she protested. Lovino was somewhat relieved that she seemed confused, rather than hurt. He rolled his eyes.

"Because he's an annoying bastard and he won't stop after I've been telling him to for a week."

"You don't think I'm _that_ annoying," Antonio whined, eyes wide and lower lip jutting out pathetically as he leaned into Lovino's personal space. Lovino firmly planted a hand on his face and pushed him back.

"Yes, I do."

"You're no fun, Lovi."

Bella laughed at their banter, occasionally slipping her own voice into the conversation (_argument. thing. it was too... spirited to be a conversation but not aggressive enough to be an argument_). She almost always sided with him, Lovino realized with a hint of surprise as the conversation (_not._) wore on. Why would she side with a rude new boy over a familiar, friendly face? Antonio was clueless, but he had that outgoing air to him- the kind Lovino recognized from the jocks at his old school, who could charm any girl into agreeing with them given enough time and motivation.

… Damn it, he didn't want to think about the kind of _charming _hijinks the "Bad Touch Trio" probably got into.

"Alright, class, settle down! We have a lot to get through today, especially since this is your homeroom. We'll go over the classroom material for the year tomorrow. First, let's get everyone's schedules passed out..."

As she began distributing them, a small scrap of paper found its way to the edge of Antonio's desk. He blinked at it- notes in class weren't surprising, but usually they only happened when Gil and Franny were in class with him! He flipped it over and scanned the contents.

_If anyone asks why I already have my schedule, I'm blaming you, jerk._

He smiled.

* * *

><p>The boredom of first period's reviewing and calm eventually gave way to second period, in itself a mixed blessing to Lovino; no obnoxious Germans, Frenchmen or Spaniards to bother him (<em>or hit on him, arguably worse<em>), but on the other hand it was gym. Goddammit if Lovino was unhealthy, he had a good metabolism and he didn't just sit on his ass all day, but that didn't mean he liked doing laps in a cramped, sweaty room with a bunch of other teenagers and teachers who would probably bitch about what losers they were even if they ran a goddamn three minute mile. On days when he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

He ran into Herakles as he trudged into the gymnasium, and blinked in surprise.

"Oh. Uh, hey."

The Greek shrugged. "Hey yourself. Looks like we've got gym class together."

"Yeah..." Lovino followed the older boy into the gym and peered around. The other students were milling around, dribbling basketballs and gossiping as they waited for class to begin.

"It proably won't get much worse than this today, not unless Coach is in a mood again," Herakles leaned back against a wall, watching as a pair of their classmates squabbled over a travel on the court. "We don't start the real units until the second week. Until then you can do whatever you want."

"That's... great. I guess."

He felt awkward, standing silently but not doing anything. There was no comfortable silence in the background to make it a peaceful moment, just the screeching of sneakers on a linoleum floor as their classmates howled and yelled and occasionally threw things at each other. Threw things at him, as a matter of fact.

Wait, what the hell?

Herakles must have been paying more attention than he'd been, because somehow he managed to drag Lovino out of the way just as a basketball collided with the wall where Lovino's head had been two seconds ago. He supposed it might not've been the most painful thing he'd ever gone through, but it would've been really, really, annoying. What caught his attention was Herakle's death glare, over his shoulder to someone behind him.

"I understand that you're just a jerk in general, but it'd be nice if you could wait to assault the new kid until he'd settled in a little."

"'Scuse me, _princess_," another voice jeered. Lovino wrenched himself out of Herakles' grip to turn and look at the owner of the voice. The tall, dark-skinned boy smirked down at him. "Hey there, fresh meat. Is the boring old Greek bothering you yet?"

"At least he hasn't nearly hit me in the head with anything," Lovino muttered, before he wondered why he was defending someone he barely knew. "Who are you?"

"Call me Sadik," the older boy told him cheerfully. "A far better companion than the pussy you've been talking to."

"That's not very nice," Herakles said absentmindedly. Sadik ignored him and continued on.

"You're one of Vargas' boys, right? Coulda sworn you were supposed to be a Junior."

Was nobody ever going to let that go ever?

"Well, I'm a Senior. Whoop-de-fucking-doo," Lovino crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

"Ouch, you're harsh. I'm just trying to be nice, but you can talk to this stick in the mud if you really want to. I'll be having _fun_ on the court."

"Don't mind him, he's just a dick," Herakles muttered as Sadik grabbed his ball and headed back into the chaos. "Can't stand him..."

Lovino made a noncommittal noise as he glanced at the girls watching the game with rapt attention, paying little heed to the game and a lot of heed to the muscled jocks with more brawn than brain. "Do we ever play football in this class?"

"Not tackle, only with flags," Herakles replied, then reconsidered and admitted, "Most people just tackle anyway though."

"What are you- God, ugh," Lovino groaned, massaging his temples. "Not _American _football, I mean actual football with your feet. Soccer."

"Oh. Yeah, we do that too."

Well, at least he had _something_ to look forward to.

* * *

><p>Home economics was next, and as much as he wanted a chance to cook he absolutely did <em>not<em> want to share any classes with Feliciano at all. This was just unfair.

"Come on, Lovi, it'll be lots of fun!" the younger Italian cooed, dragging him through the doorway to a small room with ancient stoves and tiny counters. He wasn't going to be responsible when something caught on fire, dammit.

"Fun," Lovino echoed skeptically. He pushed himself onto a counter and grabbed an apple from a nearby fruit bowl to turn it over and over in his hands. "Whatever you say, Feliciano."

"You have to put _heart_ into it Lovi." Feliciano took his hands, straightened his back and declared- "Repeat after me! We are going to have lots and lots of _fun_ together!"

Lovino was spared the follow-through by an excited squeal (and telltale camera flash) from the doorway. "You two look _so cute_ right now!"

"Elizaveta," Lovino grumbled in halfhearted greeting, then sent a scowl with as much heart to the blond lingering behind her. "I can see you there, pervert, are you trying to hide or something?"

"Why would I hide a body as magnificent as mine? You do not need to embarrass yourself admitting it, I know I am beautiful," Francis snickered. It turned to a full out chuckle at the disgust written all over Lovino's face. "Ah, _mon cher_, do you really find me that repulsing?"

Lovino decided to skip answering and put himself between the pervert and Feliciano instead, before the former could decide he wanted to come closer or something. Jacob had tainted his brother's mind enough as it was, dammit, he didn't need a _real_ pervert making it worse.

Elizaveta was quicker anyway, though, and she skipped over to him to show him the photo on her camera's screen. "See, see, aren't you both adorable?"

Lovino peered at it and shrugged. "Looks like just about every other picture of Feli and I ever, really."

And it did- not the counter and the theatric hand-holding, but the determined enthusiasm on Feliciano's face sharply contrasted with Lovino's tired disdain in a way that was so familiar Lovino could've listed dozens of other situations where pictures of almost exactly the same feeling were taken.

Elizaveta huffed. "Well, _I _think it's _very _cute."

"You think I'm cute when I'm swearing at everyone and beating Gilbert over the head, I don't know how reliable I should be finding your standards."

"Hey- _hey!_ That's _Gilbert, _it hardly counts!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Great fuck I must love you guys, why am I working on this at this time of night.

I am sorry to everyone I told this would be out on Saturday. Last Saturday. I know there were at least two of you. Unfortunately life and pain and writer's block have been conspiring against me!

So I'll try to get the next chapter out a whole lot sooner, and make it a bit longer to make up for this or something . Or have fanservice, everyone likes fanservice. Suggestions, anyone?

Vasco (Portugal) has been mentioned a few times now, and I have no idea when he'll show up, but I promise it will happen eventually. Is there a canon Portugal? Because mine is definitely not the canon Portugal, and I should probably work that out before he makes his entrance.

Anyway- reviews? Comments? Constructive criticism? What say you, my lovely readers, where should this be going?


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters involved.

* * *

><p>Lovino had not known it was possible to burn water.<p>

Feliciano looked about ready to cry. "L-Lovi, the poor pasta..."

"Shouldn't we..." Lovino trailed off with an uneasy, forced smile when the British boy at the stove glanced back at them. When the blond turned back around, he elbowed Francis in the ribs and hissed, "_Do _something!"

The Frenchman shrugged. "There is no arguing with Arthur when he decides to cook. You will just have to hold your breath and pray you can find an excuse not to eat it."

Lovino watched the smoking pot with dismay. He wasn't much of a cook himself, but just _watching _Arthur at the stove made him want to skip lunch. Why did the teacher have to give them free reign for the day? What had they done to deserve this? They couldn't eat that! They'd _die!_

Or, well, get food poisoning.

"Hey boys, what are you doing over- _oh_," Elizaveta stopped short when she saw Arthur at the stove, giving him a wary look. "Oh dear. Francis, why did you let this happen?"

"Why is everyone blaming this on me?" Francis grumbled. "I am not responsible for the _rosbif_'s actions."

"But you know him the best," insisted Elizaveta. "And even so, you'd be the best at distracting him until- hi Arthur! You need help with something?"

"Morning, Eliza," Arthur said briskly. "I was just wondering if you knew how to make pasta sauce- the noodles will be rather bland without it..."

"Well," Elizaveta hesitated, eyes darting over to the Vargas twins pleadingly. Lovino grabbed Feliciano and took a subtle step away- like Hell he was contributing to the... _stuff_ being made on that stove. They were Italian, dammit. Even considering to eat "pasta" like that was blasphemy!

"It's a bit close to lunch to be eating all that pasta, isn't it, _cher_?" Francis interrupted smoothly. Arthur frowned.

"What do you know, frog?" he asked crossly, but glanced towards the clock anyway. "It'd be a waste to throw it all away now..."

"It's just a bit of spaghetti, I'm sure there's more where it came from. We can make more tomorrow, if there's another free period," Francis coaxed. "I'm sure the Vargas twins have some Italian tricks they could show you..."

Yes, like _how to properly boil water_. Feliciano whimpered a little when Arthur hesitated, looking back at his creation longingly. Lovino held his breath. He wouldn't eat it. He didn't care how rude it was, it was charred and gloopy and it smelled absolutely fucking _terrible._ They would have to force-feed him before he would-

It didn't come to that. The lunch bell rang, and Lovino found himself dragged out of the classroom by his frantic little brother. When they were halfway to the cafeteria, Feliciano let go of his sleeve and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Th-that was _scary_, Lovi!"

Lovino scoffed halfheartedly. "It was... _really _gross, but it wasn't _scary_."

"What if he does that again? What if he makes us eat it!"

"He can't _make _us do anything," Lovino denied. He frowned thoughtfully as they neared the doors of the cafeteria. "What the hell _are_ we going to eat? Gramps didn't pack us lunches..."

"Ve~... Maybe Luddy will share with me!" Feliciano beamed at his own idea, then threw his arms around Lovino's neck quickly. "I'll see you later Lovi!"

"What- _hey!_" Lovino scowled as his little brother skipped off in search of the German. "Little moron..."

He scanned the room for a familiar face (_to mooch off, mostly, although he supposed companionship wasn't a bad goal either..._), but it was hard to see past the line for school lunches. How could they stand to eat that, anyway? If it was anything like the high school food in the city, it would be _disgusting_. Damn it. He really needed to find someone with a home lunch to mooch off.

"Hi Lovi!"

"_Fuck!_" Lovino yelped, then whirled angrily on the offender. "You scared the shit out of me, idiot!"

"Sorry!" Antonio laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I didn't mean to startle you. What were you looking for, though?"

Lovino shrugged, jamming his hands in his pockets. He looked up at Antonio after a moment and wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Why is your hair all wet?"

"Ah, Gil and I just had gym," Antonio grinned. "He shoved my head into the water fountain when I was getting a drink after class."

"I was just awesomely helping you cool down," Gilbert said dismissively, sauntering over. "Can't believe Coach wouldn't let us take our shirts off... Goddamn dress code, it's like ninety-five degrees out there."

"Nobody wants to see you wandering around without a shirt anyway," Lovino muttered. Gilbert made a noise of indignation.

"For your information, there are _plenty _of people at this school who find me incredibly attractive."

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

"You. You're just in denial."

"Bullshit," Lovino protested, raising an eyebrow at the blond walking up behind Gilbert. "Trouble escaping, pervert?"

"Do you have some sort of Italian escape mechanism?" Francis grumbled, exasperation tinting his voice. "I almost had to _eat _that."

"Sucks for you," Lovino chirped smugly. Francis glowered back at him. Gilbert snickered.

"Arthur's in your home ec class again?"

"Unfortunately, _oui_."

"Have fun with that," the albino said cheerfully. "Hey, cutie, speaking of eating- where's your lunch?"

Lovino shrugged. "Don't have one."

"Well that's really bad planning."

"Elizaveta dragged us out of the house before we had time to do anything other than eat breakfast, I'm lucky I even have my damn backpack!" the Italian shot back.

"Calm down," Antonio soothed, putting his hand on Lovino's shoulder comfortingly. "You can share mine for today, _sì_?"

Lovino eyed the paper bag warily. "What do you have?"

The Spaniard laughed, leading the way to an empty table. "Don't worry, it's just Spanish rice and tomatoes!"

Lovino blinked in surprise. He fumbled when the older boy tossed a red fruit to him. "Shit, there are other people on this side of the Atlantic who eat tomatoes raw?"

"Toni will eat tomatoes in _anything_," Gilbert corrected, dropping into the seat by Antonio. "Why, you like them?"

Lovino shrugged noncommittally and tried not to look _too _satisfied as he sank his teeth into the tomato Antonio had given him. It was a difficult task- he hadn't had a fresh tomato in a long time, and it was perfectly ripe and delicious and dammit he didn't want to like anything from these perverts nearly as much as he liked this. But he did.

He must have been doing a fairly bad job of concealing his satisfaction, because on the other side of the table, Antonio was practically glowing. Lovino scowled, lowering the tomato from his mouth. "What are you looking at, Spanish bastard?"

"Nothing," Antonio chuckled. He was still staring, though, and Lovino felt heat seep into his cheeks as he looked away to bite into the tomato again. Unfortunately, it seemed like there were people glancing at him whichever way he turned. He locked his eyes on the table in front of him. The grain of a wooden surface could be really fucking _interesting_ when you didn't want to look at anyone else. He traced the twists and knots with his eyes- then blinked and scowled in protest when a paper napkin abruptly became a part of his line of sight. He glared up at Antonio.

"You have tomato juice dripping down your chin," the older boy explained quickly. Lovino grumbled a little, snatching the napkin away to wipe at his mouth. He gave Antonio a disapproving stare as he dropped the napkin to the table.

"Better, moron?"

"_Sì, sì._"

Lovino watched in confusion as Gilbert snickered, leaning over to whisper in Antonio's ear. His confusion only served to intensify when Antonio's cheeks flushed a little, and the Spaniard gave his friend a solid punch to the shoulder. Francis received the Italian's questioning look with an eye-roll and a shrug.

"Your guess is as good as mine, _mon cher_."

"Don't give me pet names," Lovino muttered, licking the juice off his fingers as he finished the tomato. "What do we do now, sit around and wait for classes to start again?"

"Well it's open campus, so really we can do anything for the next..." Gilbert's eyes drifted to the clock. "Forty minutes. Hey, want to see the roof?"

Lovino blinked. "We're allowed on the roof?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

* * *

><p>"... And those are the materials we will be going over first semester," the history teacher finished, snapping the projector screen shut. His eyes swept over the classroom. "Are there any questions? Yes, miss..."<p>

"Elizaveta, sir," the brunette chirped helpfully. "I think Lovino needs to go to the nurse, his wrist is twisted."

The entire classroom swivelled to stare at the Italian, and he flushed as he sank into his chair. Damn Elizaveta for drawing attention to him! He didn't care if her intentions were good, it probably wasn't even _sprained._ The teacher narrowed his eyes and marched across the classroom, yanking Lovino's arm away from where he'd tucked it protectively against his chest. Lovino cringed.

"Is this true, Vargas?"

"It's not that bad, sir," he muttered defiantly. His wrist throbbed painfully at the little white lie. "I just fell on it in gym."

From across the room, Herakles gave him a disbelieving look- they had done nothing but talk aimlessly through their second period. Lovino hadn't touched the floor with anything but his feet. But it _wasn't his fault._ He couldn't tell the teacher he'd slipped on his way _off the roof_, and that it would've been worse but Francis had caught most of him. If he told the truth, he'd go through a series of bitching-outs, from teacher to nurse to "principal", who would undoubtedly skip the "principal" speech and go straight to the "grandpa" speech. And Feliciano whimpering when he got home...

The teacher grunted and spun on his heel. "Get it looked at just in case. Can somebody show Vargas to the nurse's office?"

Several hands immediately shot up. The teacher glared at them skeptically for a moment, then waved a familiar blond forward. "Kirkland. Hurry back as soon as you're fixed up, boys."

"C'mon, kid," Arthur muttered, tugging Lovino out into the hallway. They both let out a deep breath when the door was shut behind them. "Damn... can't stand that class. Follow me, then."

Lovino dutifully trudged after him. He cradled his wrist against his chest again. It really _wasn't _that bad, it was just fucking _sore_. He probably wouldn't even have to use that hand for another two days, at the pace the school year was kicking off. Stupid Eliza. Stupid Gilbert, dragging him up to the roof in the first place.

"Is..." Lovino's voice faltered a little at the questioning stare Arthur sent back at him, but soon enough he glared right back, and continued, "Is the teacher always that..."

He waved a hand vaguely, searching for the correct word. Arthur rolled his eyes and turned back around. "Yes. It's too bad, really, history's a decent subject when the teacher isn't so bloody _rude._ Here we are."

Lovino glanced at the doorway in front of him and grimaced. Arthur gave him a light shove when he didn't go inside straight away. "Go on in, I'll wait out here."

The Italian moved to shove the door in- only to fall forward when the door swung open from the inside. Someone caught his shoulder and dragged him to his feet before he could hit the ground, and he jerked away from the touch.

"What the fu..." he trailed off when his annoyed gaze finally noticed just how much bigger (_and fine, he could admit it this once, fucking _scarier) than him the offender was. The bespectacled blond gave him a lazy, indifferent stare in return.

"Y' sh'ld be m're c'reful," he rumbled, gently pushing his way past the smaller boy to the hallway. Lovino's baffled stare followed him until it turned sharply to an obnoxious laugh from behind him. Another blond, just as tall but substantially less _creepy_, grinned back at him.

"Don't worry about him, short stuff, he's always like that. The name's Mathias. You the Vargas kid? Feliciano?"

"I'm _Lovino_," he growled angrily, crossing his arms (_although the effect was ruined by the wince as he accidentally crushed his wrist again_). "There are two of us, damnit."

"Hey, calm down, I just forgot," Mathias held his hands up defensively. "Cool your jets, kid. I'll see you around."

Lovino groaned when the door slammed shut behind him. This was going to be a _long _school year.

"A Vargas, I see," a feminine voice tutted from the desk. Lovino craned his neck to see over the computer. The nurse stared disapprovingly back. "And just what have you done to end up here so soon in the year, young man?"

"I just fell on my wrist," he snapped, agitated by the accusing looks. "It's not that bad, but everyone else insisted I get it looked at."

"Hm," the nurse muttered, rising from her chair to beckon him closer. He grudgingly stepped forward, and after a moment's hesitation, extended his wrist to her. She examined it silently for a moment, then jabbed at it suddenly. Lovino yelped, trying and failing to tug it back.

"What the hell was that?"

"How badly did that hurt?"

"Jesus," Lovino growled under his breath. "I don't know, badly?"

"Hmph. Well, it's not swelling and there isn't a real sign of a bruise, so I doubt it's a sprain." She marched over to a small refrigerator, reaching in before tossing Lovino a plastic baggy full of ice. He caught it (_just barely, and it wasn't his goddamn fault that he only had one free hand_) clumsily. "Keep that on it until the ice melts, it should be good enough for now."

"Fucking fantastic," he growled. He fumbled with the baggy on his way out. Arthur's incredibly fuzzy eyebrows rose.

"Don't you look _ecstatic_."

"I'm sure you would be, too, with a bruised wrist and a school full of crazy people you don't know and aren't used to," Lovino spat back, giving up on any semblance of comfort as he pressed the ice to his wrist and began trudging after the Brit again. Arthur just chuckled humorlessly, and held the door open for him as they slipped back into the classroom. Lovino glowered at Elizaveta as he dropped back into his seat. She smiled brightly.

"How's your wrist? It's not sprained, is it?"

"I hate you," he muttered.

* * *

><p>Antonio looked positively scandalized when he walked into math with the ice pressed to his bruising wrist. "Lovi! You should have told us it was that bad!"<p>

"It's _not, _bastard," Lovino snapped, tired of being fussed over. "And it's your fault anyway, so shut up."

"It could have been worse if I had not caught you, _cher_," Francis reminded him, although at the same time his blue eyes focused on the cradled wrist with mild concern. "It could have broken."

"I wouldn't have been in that damn situation in the first place if you'd all just let me be, so shut up and fuck off," Lovino snarled. He stormed across the classroom and collapsed into a seat, but Antonio just followed him like a lost puppy.

"Are you sure it's okay? Did you already see the nurse?"

"No, bastard, I keep bags of ice-" ice that was melting all over the place, now that he'd had it a while. Damn it all- "With me at all times."

"Really?"

Lovino momentarily balanced the ice so he could whack Antonio with his good hand, then seized the baggy again before it could fall and leak all over his pants. "That was sarcasm, stupid."

"Oh..." Antonio laughed awkwardly, sliding into the seat next to the younger boy. "Gilbert always does say I can be a little dense sometimes."

Try a _lot _dense _all _the time, Lovino thought exasperatedly, but instead he just let his head drop to the desk and his eyelids flutter closed. "Tell me if anything important happens, bastard, I'm taking a nap..."

"It's not nearly _siesta _time yet, Lovi, just hold out until school's over," Antonio prodded. Lovino growled a little, swatting him away. Couldn't he see that the Italian just wanted to rest after all the shit the Spaniard and his stupid pervert friends had put him through? "Come on, _amigo._ Just a few more hours."

"A few more hours I could be using to sleep," Lovino mumbled into the wood of the desk. He cracked one eyes open to meet Antonio's somewhat sympathetic but mostly amused gaze. "Don't look at me like that, bastard, don't you know it's creepy to watch people sleep?"

"You're not going to sleep," Antonio responded easily. When Lovino's eye narrowed, he chuckled. "This isn't going to be a very quiet class, Lovi, I don't think you'll be able to nap through it."

"Is that a challenge?" Because he could definitely take it.

"Not really," Antonio said absentmindedly, letting his eyes stray around the classroom as more students filed in. "I don't think you'll want to anyway, though, if Berwald and Mathias start fighting again you'll want to be awake so you can get out of the way. Unless you trust me to protect you~"

"Fucking... no I do not," Lovino groaned. He forced himself to lift his head off the desk. "I don't even like math, goddamnit..."

"Really? Franny and I are pretty good at it. We could tutor you if you need it later!"

"You couldn't tutor a rock," Lovino deadpanned, ignoring Antonio's consequential pout. "And you couldn't pay me to let that pervert teach me _anything _alone."

Whatever reply Antonio had was drowned out when the obnoxious blond from the nurse's office (_Whatsisface. Matthew? No, not quite. Oh. Mathias_) burst into the room, whooping at the top of his lungs and generally attracting the attention and disdain of everyone within earshot. Lovino made a face.

He hated it when other people were right, but Antonio was, just this once. Even _he _couldn't sleep through this.

* * *

><p>Science and English had been just as disastrous, Lovino recalled exhaustedly as he slammed his locker shut and shouldered his backpack. Gilbert and Sadik had spent all of English bickering- Sadik occasionally taking a break to annoy Herakles (<em>the Greek appeared mostly unaffected, but perhaps it was the thought that counted<em>), Gilbert to annoy Lovino (_that one was definitely working_), but in general arguing over their social status within the school. Gilbert had followed Lovino to science, as well, and with Francis' help the Italian had been thoroughly pissed off by the end of the period. He just wanted to get the hell home and pass out in bed, god damn it, but it was looking like he wouldn't get a chance to do that until he was done trekking home.

A cautious hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He turned to scowl up at Antonio. "What the fuck do you want, Spanish bastard?"

"Don't you need a ride home?" Antonio smiled hopefully. Lovino felt his eye twitch- half an hour of walking when he was pissed and exhausted, ten minutes of motion sickness at close proximity to someone who was partially responsible for his pissyness...

Equally unpleasant, but one was faster.

"Fine," he mumbled, pushing past the Spaniard to trudge out to the bike rack. "But if you go that fast again I'm punching you in the throat as soon as I get home."

* * *

><p>(<em>Antonio biked just as fast as he had before, but by the time they reached the Vargas house, Lovino didn't have the energy to focus on anything other than getting himself into the house and passing out on the sofa. He could do his damn English writing later.<em>)

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So I'm not a senior in high school and I don't really know what classes they take, so this is kind of difficult on my part. If anybody feels like contributing to my knowledge in any way- just the basic kinds of things that are gone over in the average senior classes- I will be eternally grateful. (And yes, that is totally why I copped out on the last two periods. I'm only kind of sorry.)

I promise I didn't totally forget the North American bros. They should be here as soon as the next chapter rolls around!

Also, ten chapters! I am proud of myself, really, this is the longest piece of writing I've ever done, fandom or otherwise.

Huge thanks to everyone who has added this story to their favorites and/or alerts, and especially huge thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I could never write this much without that bit of support.

Comments and constructive criticism make my day, so please leave a review! :D

(Oh, and psst- the first line of this chapter? I'm almost certain that it's _not_ possible to burn water, at all. Arthur's just special that way.)


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters involved.

I'm not eloquent enough to give you all the kind of apology I want to, but I am _very _sorry for the delay. I didn't mean to leave the story hanging like this, but vacation and then relatives and then OH HEY SCHOOL, so paired with the writer's block I've had a bit of trouble finishing up this chapter. I fear for the future of the updates, and though I'll do my best, I doubt I'll be able to keep up with my aim of a chapter every week.

I also want to say that I got a pretty useful piece of concrit in the reviews, and I guess what I want to say is- that is good. Concrit makes me happy. Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings by pointing out some aspect of my writing needs work! I need other people's opinions to improve, not just my own.

Alright nobody cares about the author blurb anyway, on with the story!

* * *

><p>He wasn't worried.<p>

Honestly.

He was just a little... surprised. Yes. That was a good way to put it. After a good week of having the house invaded by at least _one_ person every morning, it was _surprising_ when no one showed up to drag them off. But it was a _good _thing! Now they could just walk to school in peace.

… Or they could if Feliciano was being more cooperative.

"Lovi, just five more minutes! I know they'll show up then!"

Lovino massaged his temples. "We don't have _time_ to wait around anymore, Feliciano. If we walked out the door _right this second_, we _still _might be late. And you said that ten minutes ago."

"But..." Feliciano's lower lip trembled. "Gil promised they'd pick us up again, he has to show up!"

"Sometimes people forget promises," Lovino grumbled, stooping to pick up his backpack. "Look, you can wait all you want, but _I'm _leaving. You can say 'I told you so' when you beat me there with the trio of douchebaggery."

"Lovino! That's mean."

"_Ti sembro me ne importa_?" the older Italian rolled his eyes and stepped out of the kitchen. "I'll see you at school, F-"

_Crash. Shriek._

The twins scrambled to the front window, Feliciano peering outside anxiously as Lovino frowned thoughtfully. On the sidewalk was a crashed bicyclist. Their only visible features were a mop of blond hair and a baggy red hoodie.

"It- it's not Francis or Luddy, is it?" Feliciano squeaked.

"No," Lovino said, heading for the front door. "Grab your shit, I'll be outside."

Without waiting for an answer, he slipped outside, slamming the door behind himself, and crossed the lawn. He crouched by the blond. "Hey, uh- are you alright?"

The figure whipped around to stare at him, then relaxed and offered him a wavering smile. "M-my bike fell on my ankle, but I'll be fine..."

Lovino gave him a doubtful look, but offered him a hand up all the same. The blond scrambled to his feet, wincing as he put weight on the left. He gave his bike a grimace. "_Merde..._ Guess I won't be using that today."

"It can probably be fixed..." Lovino trailed off, eyeing the wreckage. "Or not."

The blond laughed a little and nervously played with the strings on his hoodie. "Sorry for crashing in your yard like that... I was trying to get away from my cousin and his friends, so I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing..."

"It's alright," Lovino mumbled. He nudged the bike with his foot. "You want to, uh, move that in the garage or something? I can help you get it back to your house after school, maybe..."

"Yeah, that sounds good," the other boy nodded, grabbing the bike by its frame as Lovino hurried to open the garage door. When they'd cleared enough clutter away to set it down and still close the door again, the blond spoke up again.

"Um- my name is Matthew Williams, by the way- I'm new to town, so do you... you think you could show me the way to school?"

Lovino snorted, offering his hand awkwardly. "I'm about as well off as you are with directions... but we might as well get lost together. I'm Lovino Vargas."

"Vargas," Matthew repeated thoughtfully, shaking the proffered hand. "Isn't that the principal's last name, as well?"

"He's my grandfather," Lovino grumbled. Matthew's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could comment, the front door swung open and Feliciano dashed over to them, chattering at a mile a minute and clutching a brown paper bag.

"Ve Lovi you forgot your lunch, can we please wait for Gil and Luddy just a little bit longer I know they'll show up, please please please please please oh who's this?"

Lovino almost smiled at the baffled look on Matthew's face, but Feliciano's mouth opened again before either could answer- this time in a delighted shriek that had them grimacing as they covered their ears. "LUDDY! GIL! I knew you would come! See Lovi I was right!"

Lovino turned to glower at the older boys, raising an eyebrow at the extra bike with its tall blond passenger. The boy scrambled off his bike to seize Matthew by the shoulders and wrap him in a bear hug.

"_Mattie!_ I was sure you'd been abducted by aliens or something, where did you go?"

"Get off me, Al," Matthew sighed. He squirmed out of the embrace. "You were taking too long so I was going to go to school on my own... but I crashed my bike."

"Where'd it go, then?" the newest blond asked suspiciously. Lovino scowled.

"It's in my garage, so he can pick it up on the way home."

"Cutie, are you being _nice _to someone?" Gilbert gasped in mock horror. "Dude, you just met him! Why aren't you nice to your wonderful _friends_ who _take care of you_ and-"

"Because you're crazy, perverted bastards," Lovino growled, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Are we going or are we just going to stand around in my driveway and be late to class?"

"Wow, you're grumpy. Are you PMSing?" the blond boy chirped. Lovino whirled around with a retort on the tip of his tongue, then blinked in surprise as Matthew punched him.

Hard.

In the gut.

Lovino watched thoughtfully as the taller boy doubled over in pain, and Matthew massaged his temples tiredly. "Lovino, this is my younger brother, Alfred. Alfred, _shut up._"

"G-geez, Matt, that _hurt_," Alfred wheezed. Francis chuckled, resting his forearms on his handlebars.

"Ah, _mes cousins, _it's good to see you haven't changed."

Lovino frowned. "_Cous-_... You're cousins with-!"

"We're nothing like him, I swear!" Matthew yelped hurriedly, casting a dirty look at Francis. "I mean, even _Alfred _has higher standards."

Alfred whined. "Hey! What are you implying?"

"For fuck's sake," Lovino grumbled, then raised his voice. "You bastards nearly made us late because Feliciano wouldn't leave without you, so can we _go _now?"

"Of course, Lovi! Just hop on!" Antonio crowed, patting the back of the bike enthusiastically. Matthew gave Lovino a disbelieving look.

"You... ride on the same bike as a member of the Bad Touch Trio?"

"Can't leave Feliciano alone with them and I haven't got my own bike," Lovino grunted. He cast a glare Feliciano's way (_the little brat just smiled hopefully, clinging to Ludwig in a way that, as an older brother, made him feel a bit nervous_) as he stalked over to the bike and swung on behind Antonio. He loosely clutched at the fabric of Antonio's shirt, watching as Matthew was dragged, complaining and swatting, onto Alfred's bike; however, a sudden lurch forward and he found himself instinctively throwing his arms around the Spaniard's waist. His cheeks glowed as the rumbles of Antonio's laughter vibrated his arms.

"Bastard."

"Aw, that's not nice at all, _amigo_!"

* * *

><p>"You let them drag you around on bikes when you get <em>motion sickness<em>?"

Lovino lifted his head just enough to meet Matthew's shocked glare with a dirty look. "I told you, _Mom, _I can't leave my brother alone with them. What the hell are you still on about that for, anyway? It's second period now!"

"Well it's still stupid," Matthew scoffed, sliding down the wall to sit next to him. "And it's sort of relevant, since it's gym..."

"I had all of Spanish to recover, I'm perfectly fucking fine," Lovino growled. He barely ducked a wayward basketball (_Herakles roused himself from his doze long enough to mumble, "Are you just a magnet for everything dangerous?"_), then continued, "It's not like we're actually doing anything, anyway."

"You still look like you might throw up."

"Well, I don't feel like it and that's what counts- augh!"

The ball had hurtled their way again, but this time, Lovino's reflexes meant Herakles wasn't spared- the Greek was jarred from his sleep forcibly, and blue-green eyes narrowed dangerously at the offender.

"_Adnan..._"

"Don't give me that look, Karpusi, it's not like I'm aiming for you," Sadik said, the hint of smugness in his smile giving his lie away. He went to grab the basketball only for Herakles to give it a defiant kick. The taller boy's mouth twisted into a grimace as it rolled across the gym. "Oh, yeah, real _mature_."

"I try," Herakles growled, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "You can leave now."

Lovino quietly slid away as the argument escalated, Matthew right behind him. The blond gave the pair behind them a disbelieving look.

"Herakles really seemed like a quiet guy..."

"He is, as far as I can tell. It's not his fault," Lovino sighed, giving Sadik a disdainful look. "That bastard spent all of yesterday trying to provoke him and he didn't lift a finger. Guess he just didn't feel like sleeping through it today."

"Hm."

They watched as the Mediterranean boys bickered, and Matthew frowned thoughtfully. "Why do you suppose they don't get along?"

"How the hell should I know? I just met Sadik yesterday and I haven't seen Herakles since I was six."

"Oh, that's right, you just moved here too," Matthew looked a little relieved. "How is it so far?"

"Fucking awful," Lovino snorted, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Your cousin and his friends are fucking obnoxious. It's better than the city, though. I guess."

Matthew's brow furrowed. "Have they been bothering you?"

"I live next door to the Beilschmidts. What do you _think_?"

A yowl interrupted Matthew's response, and they whirled around just in time to see Sadik clutching at his nose, blood leaking from beneath his hands and his mouth tripping over a stream of profanities. Herakles was almost trembling with rage, and Lovino hurried to drag him out of the gym before any more punches could be thrown.

"That was pretty damn stupid, Herakles."

"He deserved it."

"Well, yeah, I'm not going to try to argue with that but- _shit, quick, hide!_"

They nearly tripped over each other in their haste to duck into the janitor's closet as the coach stormed out of the gym, screeching instructions to the fight-eager jocks that had joined him in the search. Lovino silently locked the door behind them, and they held their breath as the clamor passed them. Herakles leaned further into the depths of the closet as two pairs of feet stopped outside the door.

"Think they would've gone in there?"

"Naw," a second voice said easily. "Anyone who's gone to this school for any amount of time knows that you can't unlock it from the inside. Karpusi wouldn't have gotten himself stuck in there while Adnan was pissed at him. It's like _asking _to be cornered."

"Guess you're right," the first voice mused, giving the door a lazy kick. Both boys cringed. "Let's keep moving. Ha! Can't wait to see their faces when Coach gets his hands on 'em..."

There was a quiet scuffle of shoes outside, but soon even those footsteps faded into the distance, and the closet was eerily quiet save for their breathing. Lovino's was almost forced; harsh, quick sucks of air with a long, trembling release.

"Please tell me they were wrong," he hissed, feeling along the wall to make his way back towards the door.

"About what?" Herakles called softly from somewhere back in the darkness.

"The goddamn door, that's what!"

Herakles winced as the doorknob rattled viciously. "Well..."

He listened to the long stream of harsh, whispered profanity before Lovino slid down with his back against the door. "So we're stuck in here until..."

"The Bad Touch Trio comes to figure out why the new kid's gone missing, probably," Herakles murmured back, stepping over inconveniently placed cleaning equipment to sit by the Italian. "Or the janitor comes to use the closet for something... But the trio will probably come first." He paused, the light streaming from under the door just enough to frame Lovino, curled up on the floor. "Are you alright, Lovino?"

"No," he mumbled. "... Herakles, when they said we were _cornered_-"

"Don't worry about that," the Greek said hastily. Lovino's wide eyes caught the light, and Herakles sighed, quietly admitting, "Even if Adnan figured out where we were, and _had _the keys to the janitor's closet, he... probably... wouldn't really go at us while we were backed into a closet."

"You punched him in the face hard enough that he had a _bloody nose_."

"Yeah. I did. But..."

"But what?"

"... He hasn't hit back in a long time."

"He threw a basketball at you!" Hell, he'd thrown _multiple _basketballs.

Herakles scoffed. "You've seen him. How strong do you think he is? I'd rather be hit with sports equipment then have him fight back with his fists."

"...Fair enough."

There was a long stretch of silence. The only sounds were the soft breaths (_Lovino breathed just a little bit faster than Herakles, and wasn't sure if it was just how he breathed or he was maybe a little bit afraid of being stuck in the dark with somebody he barely knew_), and the occasional rustle of fabric as Herakles attempted to find a way to sit comfortably. Lovino had begun drifting to sleep right where he was when a loud clatter made him jolt upright.

"'S just me, I accidentally kicked something," Herakles muttered, pulling his legs in until he sat cross-legged. "Sorry."

"S'fine," Lovino said curtly. He lowered himself back to the ground. They lapsed back into silence for a minute, but then Lovino's curiosity got the better of him. "Hey, Herakles?"

"Hm."

"Why do you fight with Sadik all the time anyway?"

"... He pisses me off."

"... That's all?"

"That's all."

"Oh."

Herakles nudged Lovino with his foot. "Take a nap, kid. I'll wake you up when someone comes along to save us."

"_Sì,_" Lovino replied willingly, and finally slipped unconscious.

* * *

><p>"You killed him," Sadik deadpanned, crouching beside the still form of the Italian. "Really, Karpusi? He was just an innocent bystander."<p>

"He's _asleep _you son of a bitch," Herakles growled, although he shifted his weight anxiously. "Just look at him, he's breathing and everything."

"I dunno, he looks pretty dead to me..." the Turk trailed off. Looking up, he snickered at the look on Herakle's face. "I'm kidding around, here, relax a little. You got any idea where I should be dragging him off to?"

"... Nurse's office, I guess."

Sadik nodded briefly, heaving Lovino into his arms as he stood. "Hngh... Kid sure is a heavy sleeper, I'll give him that."

Herakles silently trailed behind him until Lovino was resting in the infirmary, excuses drawn up and little white lies in place (_he wasn't quite sure the nurse had actually believed them, but on the other hand it was obvious she wouldn't exert the effort involved in proving them wrong, or, heaven forbid, asking other teachers about it_), and they wandered back out into the hallway.

"See you around, Karpusi."

Sadik made it about twenty feet away before a soft voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hey, Sadik."

He turned around to look at Herakles in disbelief. The Greek's face was twisted up into a grimace. "I... I'm sorry. For, you know. Punching you in the face."

He sprinted off in the other direction before Sadik had a chance to respond. The Turk watched him retreat, then went back on his way, a small smirk on his face as he shook his head.

"Dumb brat..."

* * *

><p>"Lovi are you okay!"<p>

"Wh... huh?"

Lovino cringed as the fluorescent glare hit his eyes, immediately squeezing them shut as he scrambled to an upright position. Anxious hands tugged at his sleeves.

"The nurse said you'd passed out in gym because you didn't get enough sleep! Why didn't you tell me, _fratello_?"

Lovino finally exposed his eyes to the light, and attempted to give Feliciano the most intimidating glare he could while squinting. "What the hell are you going on about?" He glanced around the room, then frowned more deeply in confusion. "How the fuck did I get here?"

"She didn't say!" the younger Italian whined. "I was really worried when you didn't show up in home ec, Lovi. It's almost lunch time now."

"Did whatsisface- the British guy. Arthur? Did he mutilate any more pasta?" Lovino asked, slowly pushing himself up until he was standing, mostly steady. Feliciano shuddered.

"_Sì, _but Francis _accidentally _spilled it on the floor so we didn't have to eat any."

"Thank the fucking Lord," Lovino grumbled. He gave the nurse a cursory nod and slipped out into the hallway, Feliciano on his heels. "Back to class, then, I guess."

Feliciano beamed, dragging him to the home economics room. Everyone looked up at the creak of the door (_except Francis and Arthur- Lovino wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he thought he heard a distinctly British accent saying "If you were on fire and I had water, I would drink it"_). The Italians were almost immediately drawn into a hug, crushed against each other and a mysterious other person who really wasn't that mysterious.

"Lovino! You're okay!"

"Of course I'm okay, moron," Lovino snapped. He squirmed out of the embrace and gave Elizaveta a trademark scowl. "Why does everyone seem to think something really horrible happened to me?"

"... It didn't?"

"_No it did not!_" Actually the closet had been dark and unpleasant and hiding from someone on account of potential danger had set off a very unwelcome chain of flashbacks, but that was his _mental _health and that was very different than the _physical _health they were all so worried about.

"Chill, dude, she was just worried about you," someone quipped from behind him. Lovino gave Matthew's brother a resigned glare.

"Oh. It's _you_."

"Why do you sound so disappointed?" Alfred whined. "Geez, you seniors are all grumpy or crazy."

"Or sex-obsessed," Arthur called, giving Francis a pointed look. The Frenchman smiled innocently.

"Actually Lovino's technically a junio-"

"_For fuck's sake why do you all insist I'm not really a senior!_"

"I can't believe you were really worried that he'd be misplaced here," Arthur murmured to Elizaveta, as Francis joined in the shenanigans. "People pay attention to him, and he's certainly not the kind of person who would be shy to ask for it."

"Hmm," she replied. "I think you're seeing a different Lovino Vargas."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Okay okay okay you guys know the guy who does Russia's voice? Jerry Jewell?<p>

_I have his autograph_

_ON A RUSSIA BUTTON_

_SQUEEEEEEE_

Oh yeah, story request to whoever gets the 50th review or something. Or if you want a picture instead I guess I could do that? My dA is emianemone if you guys are interested.

I guess this is a little bit of a filler chapter! But at least the NA bros finally got introduced.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters involved.

Warning: This chapter is full of mushy conversations about feelings. Also Jacob, quit invading, you weren't supposed to be this involved in everything.

* * *

><p>The evening started with a phone call from Jacob. "Your old man called me earlier."<p>

"What the hell for?" Lovino asked, baffled. A dry chuckle trickled its way through the line.

"He wanted to know if it was normal for you to randomly pass out from exhaustion mid-morning."

"Oh," Lovino said. Then he groaned. "Oh, _God._"

"Just what sort of shenanigans are you getting up to over there?" Jacob teased. "Stayed up late entertaining guests, did you?"

"No, I..." Lovino paused, setting the phone down momentarily as he checked outside his bedroom door. There was no sign of Feliciano or Leone, so he picked up the phone and quietly, grudgingly continued, "I was... helping someone out."

"I'm having trouble relating this to your unconscious spell."

"Goddammit, Jake, I'm trying to tell you! Shut your mouth and let me talk, okay?" Lovino snarled. He rubbed his temples as Jacob laughed. "An... o_ld friend_ of mine punched someone in the face, and we hid in the janitor's closet so we wouldn't get in trouble but then we got locked inside."

Jacob let out a small, sympathetic sound. "Shit. You alright, kiddo?"

"I'm fine, I just... took a nap so I wouldn't be able to think about it," Lovino made a face as he added, "I woke up in the nurse's office and I still have no idea how the hell _that _happened."

"Ha! Your friend probably dragged you there. It's the least he could do, if you went through mental trauma just to get him out of detention."

"Yeah..."

There was a comfortable pause. "You made any new friends yet?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "I guess, kind of. Another new kid crashed his bike on the lawn this morning... he seems sane enough."

"You're measuring friend potential in sanity?" Jacob sighed disapprovingly. "Lovino, Lovino. When will you ever learn?"

"I'm surrounded by perverts and crazy people, is it so much to ask for for a little normality in my life?" Lovino complained.

"You never had any problems when _I _was the only person you can trust."

Lovino's lips tightened stubbornly. "Friendship and trust aren't the same thing."

"You don't trust any of the kids you've met over there?"

"Hell no! They're crazy perverts!"

"You used to call _me _a crazy pervert. Don't you trust me?"

"Yeah, but-"

"And you trust Feliciano, don't you?"

Lovino scowled. "To an extent..."

"But you call him an idiot all the time."

"So?"

"So if you're willing to trust us, why won't you trust anyone else?"

"Why do I need anyone else, if I have you?" Lovino raised his eyebrows (_then cursed the fact that Jacob couldn't see it anyway_). "You planning on kicking the bucket?"

Jacob groaned. "You stubborn brat."

"I'm leaving this town as soon as I graduate, anyway," Lovino declared, settling back against his pillows. "There's no point in getting attached."

"... Lovino..."

"_What_?"

"...You know, it won't hurt my feelings if I'm not the only person you rely on."

Lovino flustered, cheeks flaming. "Where the hell did you get the idea that _that _was the problem!"

"I tell William a lot of the same things I tell you," Jacob continued, ignoring the interruption. "You know that and it doesn't bother you, right?"

"No," Lovino said, exasperated. "You can tell William whatever the hell you want to. You're allowed to have other friends, you idiot."

"I am. And so are you."

Lovino seethed in frustration. "I _know _that, Jacob. As a matter of fact, you've been nagging me to get more friends since I was eight."

"So what's the problem?" Jacob asked- and what Lovino really hated wasn't the fact that the stupid blond wouldn't _give it up _(_obnoxious though it was_), it was the lack of brotherly persuasion in his voice. He wasn't being a wise ass. He honestly wanted to know what was going on in Lovino's mind.

And after dealing with him for ten years, Lovino still had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do in the face of such blunt honesty.

"It's... it's not all about you, you self-centered moron," he finally grumbled. "I don't _want _other friends."

"Fine, then," Jacob sniffed. "I'll _make _it about me. _I _want you to have other friends. Who are you going to complain to when _I'm _the one who pissed you off?"

"You," Lovino said without hesitation. Jacob barked out a laugh.

"Yeah, you've never really had a problem with telling people when they irritate you."

Lovino smiled. Just a little.

"... What about the guy you were talking about earlier?"

"Who?" the Italian's brow furrowed in confusion.

"The guy who punched someone in the face," Jacob supplied helpfully.

"Oh. Yeah. He's Grandpa's old real estate agent's son. What about him?"

"Do you trust him?"

And Lovino's memory veered off on its own- broken memories of The Before, when Leone had dragged his grandsons around with him as he tried to find a house closer to his new job. He remembered Mrs. Karpusi, just barely, a beautiful young woman who dared to spoil her professional image with the curly-haired child that squeezed her hand. "I don't mean to be a bother, Leone," she would say, "but do you mind if Herakles stays with your boys while we look at houses?" And the eldest Vargas would assure her it was alright, and they would leave the trio of children to mind themselves in the preliminary inspection (_looking back on it, Lovino wondered if it was actually legal to leave children as young as they had been without a "responsible adult" to look after them_). Memories of how they spent their time are more blurred. He remembered being less crass and obnoxious back then; just quiet, in the same way Herakles was. They enjoyed the silence of each other's presence in the face of Feliciano's bubbly demeanor, but it wasn't really friendship. Respect, maybe, but not the same friendship that Lovino had learned to tolerate with Jacob.

"Lovino!"

He snapped back to the present. "Hn?"

"Taking a trip down memory lane, were you? You were quiet for so long I was starting to think you'd ditched me."

"Sorry," Lovino muttered, stretching himself out on the bed. "I was just thinking."

"Yeah, I figured," Jacob chuckled warmly. "You never answered my question, though."

"What was it again?" Lovino asked, too lazy to sift back through his thoughts until he remembered what they had been talking about.

"Your old friend- do you trust him?"

_Ah, that's right_. And suddenly a contrasting memory was added to the mess. He hadn't been alone when he curled up in the closet that morning. The Greek had been a few feet away, radiating a sense of calm in the face of Lovino's panic and memories. It was... not quite comforting, maybe, but reassuring, knowing that he wasn't the only one locked in the dark.

"He's..." Lovino trailed off, sighed, and finally said, "He's familiar."

"Familiar in a good way?" Jacob prompted.

"I guess."

"That will have to do for now," Jacob said. Lovino wrinkled his nose in disgust as the following yawn was accompanied by the sounds of cracking joints. "I have to head back to the station, now, kiddo. I'll call you again when I can, okay?"

"Sure, Jake."

"And I want to hear about all the awesome _new friends _you'll make by that time," Jacob drawled, then laughed at Lovino's grumbled profanity. "Bye, Lovino."

"_Arrivederci_, Jacob," Lovino sighed into the speaker. He ended the call and tossed the phone to the side, then rolled over and growled curses into his pillows.

How was he supposed to trust anyone after everything that had happened?

* * *

><p>He woke up later to the quiet creek of his door, and peered across the room lazily at his twin brother. "Hey."<p>

"Hi," Feliciano murmured, padding across the room to settle down on the bed next to Lovino. The older Italian made a quiet noise of disapproval, but shifted to give him more room. "Grandpa said Jake called."

"He did."

"What'd you talk about?"

"Stuff," Lovino yawned, rolling onto his back. "You know, just Jacob being Jacob."

"... Oh."

It was such a calm, quiet, not-Feliciano vocalization that Lovino rolled back on his side just to give him a look of concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine..." Feliciano mumbled. But his eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips had that trembling twitch they got when he was about to cry. Lovino shoved himself into a sitting position.

"Shit... what'd I say?"

"Vee Lovi, it's okay, you didn't mean to hurt my feelings," Feliciano assured him, with that heartbroken little smile he got sometimes (_it suddenly occured to Lovino that this was occasionally the preliminary for being guilted into doing things he really didn't want to do, but he shoved the thought to the back of his mind_). "It's just..."

"It's just what?"

"Sometimes it seems like you like Jacob more than me and Grandpa..." Feliciano sighed, pressing himself up against Lovino's side. The older Italian groaned in despair. What was with everyone and talking about _feelings _today?

"...I like you _and _Jacob, Feli," he admitted, then hurriedly added "Equally!" when the kicked-puppy-dog-eyes made no sign of disappearing.

"And Grandpa? You love Grandpa too, right?"

Lovino's lip twitched downwards a little. "Kind of."

Feliciano looked absolutely horrified. "_Lovi! _Only _kind of_?"

"I have my reasons," Lovino snapped, crossing his arms. Feliciano sat up, shaking his head.

"But _he _loves _you_, Lovi."

_Not as much as he loves you_. "That doesn't mean it has to be mutual."

"But it does!" Feliciano cried in distress. "He loves me and I love him, so why don't you love him back?"

"I told you I have my reasons!" Lovino scowls viciously. "Here, let's use examples. The trio of douchebaggery is convinced they are my friends. This does not mean they are, because I do not... _befriend _them back."

"... What's wrong with Gilly and Franny and Toni?" Feliciano asked, brow burrowing in confusion.

"They're crazy and perverted and they don't know when to leave me alone. What's _right _with them?"

Feliciano finally laughed, throwing his arms around Lovino's torso and _squeezing_. "Oh, _fratello_."

"Bipolar little bastard," Lovino grumbled. "Why'd you come in in the first place? Is dinner ready?"

"Ve? Oh, no, not yet. I just wanted to talk to you," Feliciano sighed, squirming his way into Lovino's lap. "And you and Jacob talked for a long time, so I was worried..."

"The bastard started talking about feelings and stuff, that's all," Lovino said, although his cheeks pinked a little at admitting it. Feliciano gasped delightedly.

"Oh! Are you getting married?"

"FELICIANO!" Lovino spluttered, shoving the younger boy out of his lap, off the bed and onto the floor. "What the hell, _no!_"

"Awww..." Feliciano giggled. "That would have been fun..."

"It's not like that at _all_," Lovino seethed. "You... he's like an older brother, _okay_? I don't think of him that way. Besides, I'm fucking _straight!_"

"But Lovi, you've never had a girlfriend," Feliciano chirped, crawling back up onto the bed. "So how can you tell?"

"You tell me, you little brat, _you've _never had a boyfriend but you know you're..." Lovino grimaced. "... Interested in men..."

"Does it bother you?" Feliciano fretted instantly.

"Does what bother me?"

"That you know I'm gay."

Feliciano was just _so fucking blunt. _Lovino's cheeks heated up a little. "Of course not. Who you fuck with is up to you."

"But do you not like-"

"_I don't care, Feliciano_," Lovino snapped. He mentally slapped himself for the harsh tone, then continued, "If that's what makes you happy, then go for it. I'll... I'll support whatever makes you happy, dammit."

Feliciano squealed with delight, and dove in for a hug. "Lovi! I love you too!"

"That's _not _what I said!" Lovino yelped, tumbling back against the pillows again. "_Ugh_. Why are you so goddamn touchy-feely?"

"Why not? Hugs are nice," Feliciano sighed happily. He snuggled closer to his brother. "You like my hugs, right? So it's all okay!"

"I _tolerate _them. Barely," Lovino sniffed.

"Because you love me?" Feliciano suggested brightly, and Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Okay, whatever, if that's what you want to call it. Go bother Grandpa into reading you a bed time story or something, why don't you?"

"But Lovi, it's not bed time yet."

Lovino's face met his palm.

* * *

><p>"More than one person got punched in the face yesterday," Matthew said, as they stretched out on the Vargas' front lawn the next morning.<p>

"Was the other person Francis or Gilbert?" Lovino asked, yawning widely. The blond snorted.

"No such luck. Alfred managed to piss off that British boy-"

"Arthur?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

"He's in a couple of my classes. What did Alfred _say_?"

"Beats me. He was just being Alfred, I guess," Matthew sighed, letting his head drop back against the grass. "Nothing unusual. He's got a pretty good black eye, though. Arthur packs a good punch."

"I can't say I feel too sorry for him," Lovino said. He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "How's your bike?"

"Dad's trying to get it fixed, but it's not working out that well. I guess it's alright. Soon it'll be cold enough that we'll just carpool in Francis' jeep, anyway."

"Oh, God, no," Lovino groaned. Matthew looked up in surprise.

"What's wrong? I've never ridden in it, but it _looks _like a perfectly good car..."

"Sure, if you like cramming eight people into a four-and-one-half person vehicle," Lovino grimaced. "They made Feliciano and I sit on their laps. It was the only way there was room."

Matthew cringed. "... Does anyone else have a car?"

"Gramps does. But he drives to school way before us to do principal things, and besides," Lovino wrinkled his nose. "It's _ancient. _It looks like it's going to break down any second now."

"Maybe Herakles or Elizaveta has one," Matthew muttered.

" works in the city. They'd have to have two cars..."

"Elizaveta, then-"

"Lovino!"

They both looked up at the screeching of brakes. Gilbert looked positively scandalized. "Feliciano says you said we're not friends!"

"We aren't," Lovino deadpanned, as he and Matthew dragged themselves to their feet. "Why, what's the problem?"

"_Everything! _Why would you lie like that?"

"I'm not lying, you crazy bastard. You _aren't_ my friend," Lovino raised an eyebrow. Gilbert clutched at his chest theatrically.

"You wound me so!"

"What about me, _cher_?" Francis called, smirking flirtatiously. Matthew groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Francis, _please _don't hit on my friends..."

"Lovi! _I'm _your friend, right?"

"No," Lovino said without thinking, then cringed at the wide, injured green eyes that bore into his soul. "Don't look at me like that, bastard, I'm not going to _lie _to make you feel better about yourself." Pause. "And _stop calling me Lovi._"

"Why do you hang around us, then?" Gilbert argued. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Because I'm a fucking amazing big brother," he said, giving the younger Italian seated on the back of Ludwig's bike a glare. Feliciano beamed back.

"I love you too, Lovi!"

Lovino sighed and climbed onto the back of Antonio's bike.

There wasn't any talking while the bike rides went on. It was like an unspoken rule- even Feliciano and Gilbert shut up while they pedalled off to school. Lovino appreciated this fact. Listening to the odd alterations of voices while people tried to communicate while biking made it harder to pretend he was safely on the ground.

So when Antonio offered a quiet "Lovi?" in the middle of the ride, he had to resist the urge to punch the idiot in the throat.

"_What_."

"Do you really not think we're friends?"

"... I've had enough conversations about feelings for the rest of the year. Try again next August."

"Eh?" Antonio whined. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a _shut up and get me to school_, stupid Spanish bastard."


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Welp. Guess I haven't lost my touch with procrastinating.

All jokes aside, I only have one excuse for how long this took and I doubt you guys a) care or b) would find it a worthwhile excuse, so there you go.

I've been looking forward to this chapter, sort of. I hope I do the way it seemed in my head justice. Rereading sections of this I'm pretty sure my writing style is all over the place, so if this chapter seems like it's different from others style-wise, you're _probably _not imagining things.

To clarify, we left off on... Tuesday evening I'm pretty sure! This chapter starts on Thursday of the next week.

* * *

><p>It had been a perfectly normal afternoon.<p>

Homework. Feliciano brought home friends. Lovino avoided said friends, ignored Feliciano's whining, and shut the curtains when the Bad Touch Trio attempted to get his attention from the front yard. When his homework was finished, he sprawled himself out across his bed and turned up the radio. Sometime after that he must've passed out; and if he thought about it very hard, he could dredge up a vague memory of his brother murmuring that it was dinner time, and Grandpa was worried that he was sleeping too much and Lovino's tongue had tripped over itself as he mumbled for Feli to _please shut the fuck up, he wasn't hungry and he wanted some goddamn sleep_. Everything else was a dull, muted mess of dreams.

When he woke up the room he was in was pitch black. That wasn't the part that concerned him. The part that concerned him was the part where _he had abso-fucking-lutely no idea where he was._

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck this was it they had found him, they had found him and they'd probably found Feliciano and _oh God what they must've already done to Grandpa fuck-_ he'd been lucky all these years and now it was over. He hadn't tried hard enough, he hadn't been secretive enough _he'd told people people who weren't even involved in any way why had he felt like he'd had to prove himself to them? _What they thought didn't matter, what mattered was keeping Feliciano safe and not getting himself shot in the fucking head. What mattered was not letting anyone else get dragged into it not just because then he and Feli were in more danger, but also because then they were in danger too, because they knew. They'd become part of this mess of lies and would-be murder and mind games. Jacob had been lucky, so lucky he'd moved away before they knew he knew- one slip of a ten-year-old tongue, loosened by affection and good Italian cooking, and he could have lost the best friend he'd ever had and would ever have. Brule was exhibit A, without argument. He'd been too interested, too curious to accept that Lovino was crazy and move on. He'd turned over every rock on his search through _the Jackson twins' _past and asked all the wrong questions to all the right people until one day, Lovino had come home from school and heard the fucking idiot asking Pat what their last name had been before she'd adopted them because it would be really useful in clearing a few things up and maybe getting Lovino on the path to recovery. In retrospect, his death should not have been as surprising as it was; but maybe it wasn't the dying part that had been a surprise? No, it was how calculated the entire situation was. He'd been shot between appointments, right before Lovino was to come in. They weren't just getting rid of a potential threat, they were making sure Lovino knew _this was serious shit, and your surrogate mother has meant every threat she's ever made towards you and your brother so watch your fucking step._

Calling Jacob had been a reflex reaction- he shouldn't have done it, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Jacob oozed confidence and reassurance and _trustworthiness_. Hi Jake, you know my mafia problems yeah my psychiatrist just got shot. That's all Lovino had to say and he'd been there to squeeze his shoulder and tell him it would be okay, they wouldn't get away with it this time. This time all the loose ends would get tied up and everything would be okay. Lovino believed him because _holy shit did he want it to be true. _He wanted to grow up as normally as possible, and he wanted _Feli _to grow up as normally as possible in the best environment possible. He'd believed it.

And here he was.

It wasn't over. It wasn't okay.

Sometime in the middle of his frantic internal dialogue, his eyes had adjusted to the dark, and an entirely new wave of panic knocked the breath out of him; _there were people sprawled across the floor. _Were those corpses, yet another reminder of what was to come? Or were those armed guards, lazily stretched on the hardwood panelling to lure him into trying to escape? Air passed through his lips so rapidly now that he was starting to feel a bit lightheaded. A streak of saltwater dripped down his chin and _goddammit Lovino this is _not _the time to have a complete mental breakdown. _There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. He curled in on himself with quiet whimper and

And the door opened.

For a moment, shock overrode his survival instincts and he just stared at the silhouette, blinking away tears and spots in his vision from the sudden light. Then he let out a quiet wail and buried his face under a conveniently located pillow. Trembles and muffled sobs wracked his body as footsteps hurried across the room to him. He tried to flinch away from the hands that shook him, but they only stilled momentarily before attempting to pry him away from himself, to make him vulnerable. He kicked and slapped and squirmed against them until they grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to look his assailant in the very very green eyes that appeared, oddly enough, to be filled with concern.

Wait, what?

He'd stilled enough at that point for the other to climb onto the bed beside him, soothing words and a comforting embrace wrapping themselves around him before he recovered enough to flee. Tears continued to track his cheeks as he found his face cradled against a warm chest.

"_Pobrecito Lovi_. Did you have a nightmare?"

Spanish.

The mafia didn't use Spanish.

"An... Antonio?"

"_Sì, _it's just me," the Spaniard crooned, his hand stroking circles between Lovino's shoulder blades. "It's just me, _chico_."

Sheer relief crashed through Lovino's mind, and in one hasty motion he threw his arms around the other boy's neck and buried his face in Antonio's shirt. It didn't matter that Antonio was the stupid Spanish bastard, or that he was friends with that pervert Francis or the crazy albino bastard. He was there and he was clearly not worried about anything but Lovino so maybe it was all okay after all.

Antonio was (_understandably, even Lovino had to admit_) stunned into silence and stillness for a heartbeat, but then he just cradled the Italian closer, petting his hair and cooing Spanish until Lovino was almost falling asleep on top of him. Several minutes passed before someone groaned loudly from the floor. Lovino stiffened, trying to shake his fatigue off, but Antonio only squeezed him reassuringly.

"It's just Gilbert, Lovi."

"Fuuuuuuuck you, Tonio, why'd you leave the door open with all that light coming in... Why is the hallway light even _on_..."

Okay, yeah. That was Gilbert. No corpses or armed guards.

Antonio shifted enough for him to glare blearily down at the German, who squinted back up at him. "... Is that _Vargas _you're cuddling with, there?"

"Fuck off," Lovino managed to grumble, cringing at how quiet and pathetic he sounded. He redeemed himself with a somewhat anxious growl when Gilbert hauled himself onto the bed beside them. "Bastard, go away!"

"S'my bed, stupid, I'll sleep in it if I want to," Gilbert retorted, voice still thick with sleep. "No, really, what the hell did I miss?"

"We can talk in the morning, Gilbert," Antonio murmured. "It's really late, I want to go back to sleep."

The German eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but rolled off the bed nonetheless. For a moment, Lovino thought he would just go back to his pile of blankets on the floor, but instead he plodded across the room to shut the door. A moment later, there was a telltale dip in the bed as he climbed on again.

"Oy, scooch over a bit, will you?"

Antonio wriggled to the side, pulling Lovino with him as Gilbert flopped down on the Italian's other side. The German lazily threw an arm across both of them.

"'M not gonna forget to bother you guys about this in the morning, y'know," he muttered against a pillow.

Antonio laughed quietly. "_Buenas noches, _Gil."

* * *

><p>Morning found Lovino Vargas tangled in the sheets (<em>when the hell had there been sheets?<em>) alone. He stared at the ceiling apathetically for a moment, then rolled out of the bed and staggered to the door. The smell of food and the quiet drone of voices led him through the vaguely familiar house until he found himself standing in Gilbert's kitchen doorway. The older boys were gathered conspiratorially around the table.

"-But I'm telling you, Gilbert, I really don't know what happened, I came back from the bathroom and he- Lovino!"

Antonio beamed innocently as Francis and Gilbert spun around to face him. Lovino snorted at the guilty expressions they wore. "Good morning, bastards. How the fuck did I end up in your house?... Did you kidnap me?"

Gilbert grinned sheepishly. "It's not kidnapping, your grandfather gave us permission."

Son of a _bitch_. Lovino grumbled profanity to himself as he dragged his feet to the table and dropped himself into a chair. "And what's the point of this?"

"We had to get you out of your house before Feliciano woke up this morning, so obviously a sleepover takes care of that- but we knew you would never agree to it so we just kind of carried you over while you were out!"

They were obviously very proud of their logic, judging by their faces. He was not nearly coherent enough to argue this yet.

"Food," he demanded instead. Antonio hurried over to the stove, scraping something out of a pan as Francis and Gilbert continued to stare him down. Lovino ignored them until a plate of eggs and salsa had found its way in front of him. It was a little bit unnerving to feel their eyes tracking every movement he made, but fuck that, because wow had it been a bad idea to skip dinner last night. He wolfed down his breakfast and let his fork clatter onto the plate when it was gone.

One small movement to get out of his chair, though, and Gilbert was almost immediately blocking his path. "Nice try, cutie."

"I need to go home, fucker, I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday and my homework is in my room."

"Ludwig can lend you clothes," Francis called as he rinsed the Italian's plate in the sink (_Lovino resisted the urge to hit his head against the table; the younger German was at least two sizes bigger than he was_). "And we grabbed your backpack when we dragged you over, _cher._ It's in Gilbert's room."

"Why can't I go home?" Lovino growled, scowling further at the whiny undertone that had slipped out. Gilbert cackled.

"Mainly because Elizaveta is introducing Feliciano to the juniors' Fun Friday game... But also because we haven't interrogated you yet."

"Fuck you, there's nothing you need to know," the Italian seethed. He bristled when the German leaned into his personal space.

"Look, I don't care what you say about us not being friends- we _are _friends, _gottverdammt_, and friends _tell _each other what the fuck is going on when they have a _complete fucking meltdown_."

If Lovino had been told the day before that Gilbert was capable of being completely serious, he might have snickered at whatever idiot was under that impression. Now the solemn face in front of him just made him nervous.

"You don't have to tell us everything, Lovi," Antonio said quietly, from the other side of the table. "We just want to know- what we did wrong. So we don't do it again."

Fuck that Spanish bastard and especially fuck his kicked puppy-dog expression. Lovino shouldn't be the one being guilted over this, dammit; it wasn't like he _wanted _to think he'd been kidnapped and freak the fuck out.

"Don't worry about it," he grumbled after a moment, staring at his own crossed arms so he didn't have to make eye contact with anyone. "It was stupid. It won't happen again."

"How could it be stupid if it made you that upset, _amigo?_" Antonio chided. Lovino heard the scrape of a moving chair as the Spaniard stood. "Come on, _Lovinito, por favor..._"

"We're going to be late for school."

"Antonio can charm the _panties _off the Spanish teacher, like she would even mark you two _tardy _after he was through with her."

"Gilbert!" Antonio looked horrified. . "I've never- I wouldn't-!"

"Yeah, yeah," Gilbert said dismissively. "The fact remains that none of us care about getting to school on time anyway, so we're perfectly fine holding you hostage until you feel like talking."

Lovino's biting retort was cut off by a loud growl, courtesy of his stomach. His cheeks flushed as the older boys very obviously tried not to laugh. Francis leaned across the table to ruffle his hair.

"Tell you what, _chaton. _If you tell us your story, I will make you some pancakes. Deal?"

The Italian swatted his hand away, considered it, then scowled dutifully. "They better be the best goddamn pancakes I've ever eaten, fucker."

"_Naturellement,_" Francis chuckled, rising from the table and crossing back to the stove. Lovino stared at the table as Antonio and Gilbert quietly sat down again.

"What do you want me to tell you?" he mumbled after a moment of awkward silence. He could see Antonio's shoulders rise and fall in a shrug out of the corner of his eye.

"I guess you could start by telling us what happened last night."

"... I panicked."

"Why? Was Francis' lack of pajamas that offensive?" Gilbert snickered, as Francis grumbled from across the room. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"No, I just... I didn't know where I was so I... assumed the worst, I guess."

"What was that worst?" Antonio pressed, and Lovino's eyes narrowed. Hell if he was going to let them question him against his will in such a methodical, emotionless way.

"What are you, a fucking psychologist? Because if you think that's what you're doing then you're doing it _wrong_."

"You would know?" One white eyebrow rose. Lovino's eyes flickered back to the table.

"...Yeah."

He'd only had one psychologist, really. It had only taken one for Pat's claims of clinical paranoia to be accepted and medically recorded. After that it had been psychiatrists.

"You thought you'd been kidnapped again," Gilbert said after a long moment. Lovino felt an odd sense of relief that he had not pushed the psychologist discussion.

"Pretty much."

"With Francis and I sprawled out on the floor."

Lovino grimaced, the embarrassed heat leaking back into his cheeks. "I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to be recognizing people."

"Alright, I can accept that. So by the time Toni came in-"

"I'd successfully scared myself shitless."

"You thought he was a mafioso?"

"Yes. No," Lovino's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember his panicked train of thought. "I don't know."

"Alright, last question and you don't get to dodge this one no matter what: how the hell did you two end up cuddling in my bed?"

"I was already on your goddamn bed, and when the Spanish bastard saw me he ran over and started hugging me," Jesus Christ but his cheeks _burned_, "And I guess... I guess I was just so fucking _relieved _that I let him."

"You totally hugged back," Gilbert declared, leaning back in his chair. Lovino glowered at him, glad for an excuse to be contrary.

"I did _not_."

"You did so. That's why I had to join in, you know. If Antonio got to sneak into bed with you in the middle of the night and have mutual cuddle time then you sure as hell didn't get to exclude me. Because friends share and the Bad Touch Trios is the motherfucking _best _of friends."

"You didn't invite me, though," Francis complained as he poured syrup over a hot stack of pancakes. He pouted at the other boys. "I didn't even get _one-sided _cuddles."

"There was barely enough room for three as it was," Gilbert protested. "My bed is only _supposed _to be big enough for the awesome me, after all. Besides, you sleep like a log."

"_Bruder_?"

Gilbert flashed a wide grin to the doorway. "_Guten morgen, _Lutz."

Ludwig gave Lovino (_who had set to the pancakes with the determination of a hungry Italian_) a tired, speculative glance. "Does mister Vargas know that you stole his grandson?"

"How stupid do you think I am?"

"That doesn't answer the question, Gilbert."

"Yeah, yeah, I got permission first. You're such a stick in the mud."

Ludwig turned the fridge without answering. Gilbert stretched, casting him a furtive glance.

"You were just next door, right? Is Lizzy there yet?"

Ludwig shivered and gave Gilbert a curt nod. Lovino stopped mid-bite to glare at Gilbert. "What the hell is the crazy bitch doing to my brother?"

"Nothing extraordinarily distressing," Gilbert waved a hand lazily. "You'll see when we get to school... Oh, school! Hey, Lutz, what time is it?"

"Time to get moving," Ludwig mumbled, stuffing an energy bar into his backpack in lieu of a real breakfast. "I overslept, or I wouldn't be cutting it this close."

"Lizzy didn't wake you up?"

"No," Ludwig grimaced. "I was sleeping on the couch, and she went straight for Feliciano. I'm not sure she even noticed me."

"Lovi, if you eat that fast you're going to choke," Antonio worried. Lovino stuffed the last of the pancake into his mouth with a casual roll of his eyes, muttering something around the mouthful of food as he shoved away from the table and plodded out of the kitchen. The Spaniard was right on his heels. "Tell me if you need help finding anything, oka-"

"Shut _up_," Lovino growled, grabbing his backpack from the floor beside Gilbert's bed. He turned to face Antonio with crossed arms and a vicious glare. "Just because I freaked out over some bad memories doesn't mean you need to coddle me, bastard. I can damn well take care of myself."

Antonio held his hands up in mock surrender. "_Sì, sì_... I just thought-"

"Well, don't," Lovino growled, breezing past him. "It's not any of your goddamn business, anyway."

"Alright, Lovi," Antonio sighed, then yelped as Lovino headed for the front door. "Hey wait no where are you going?"

"I need to change clothes, asshole, I slept in this," Lovino scoffed, hand on the doorknob. "And don't tell me to borrow yours or your dumb friends', I'm not as stupidly tall as you."

"There's nothing wrong with being a bit short, _amigo_," Antonio grinned. "Besides, it makes you look even cute- _ow! _Why'd you hit me?"

"Because fuck you, that's why," Lovino grumbled. He slipped out the front door before the older boy could stop him, crossing the yards to his own porch and slamming the door open unceremoniously. "FELICIANO, I'M HOME!"

The following squeal felt like it nearly shattered his eardrums. Lovino had enough time to identify that the person barreling towards him was _not Feliciano _before he dove out of the way and they almost crashed into the door. "Lovino! Good morning!"

"... Elizaveta," Lovino warily looked her over. "Why are you in my house and what have you been doing to my brother?"

"Oh, nothing really," Elizaveta beamed. "I'll get him to school in time, don't worry. What did you need?"

"I can get it myself," Lovino muttered, inwardly beating himself over the head for being rude to a pretty girl. "Please don't traumatize _mio fratellino_, he hasn't got the brain cells to handle it."

Elizaveta gaped after him as he ascended the stairs. "How can you be so mean to him?"

Ignoring her in favor of slipping into his room, Lovino was pleasantly surprised to see that the Bad Touch Trio had not completely trashed it in their efforts to kidnap him. He dumped his dirty clothes into the laundry hamper and grabbed the nearest replacements, frowning as a strip of cloth fluttered out of the plain red shirt he was pulling over his head.

A handkerchief with the Italian flag on it?

It must have been a present from Jacob at some point or another, he thought, twisting the fabric in his hands speculatively. No harm in wearing it.

He tied it loosely around his neck and trooped back downstairs, nearly colliding with Gilbert in the foyer. "Wh- fuck you, this is _my _house."

"Did you see Feliciano?"

"No. Was I supposed to?"

"Nope. Come on, then, Francis' cousins are here."

Lovino peered out the door. Matthew waved back.

"I heard you spent the night at the Beilschmidts'," he said when Lovino approached him, entirely skipping over greetings. "Were you _drunk_?"

"No, I-"

"They drugged you, didn't they."

"No, I was passed the fuck out," Lovino said exasperatedly. "But you're right to assume I didn't do it in my right mind, I guess."

"You really think we would drug you?" Francis whined, coasting to a stop beside his cousin. "That's really hurtful, _mes chers._"

"Sucks to be you," Lovino deadpanned. He swung onto the back of Antonio's bike. "Sorry if your morals confuse the shit out of me."

"I think I missed something," Matthew muttered, awkwardly sitting behind his brother as Alfred pushed off. "Like, something _really _important."

"It's okay, Mattie," Alfred laughed. "Sometimes, with Francis, it's better _not _to know."

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: I've never had any experience with a psychologist or psychiatrist, and I know very little about clinical paranoia, so if anyone would like to correct me or offer information that would be fantastic.<p>

As far as I know, psychologist do talk therapy, while psychiatrist have fancy medical degrees that license them to suggest drug therapy. I don't know if a psychologist could actually diagnose something and suggest that the condition is severe enough for the patient to opt for psychiatry instead.

My current idea of Lovino's... mental trouble? I really have no idea how to describe this, but I think what I have him dealing with is some form of PTSD. Again, if you think this is incorrect then please let me know.


End file.
